Boarders
by beavoicenotanecho
Summary: Bella is a restless teenager living in La Push, she has an atitude problem and has a huge problem with Sam Uley, the local cop and the guy who stole her two best friends, what happens when she spends two weeks with him learning all his secrets? AU
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So this is a Sam/Bella imprint story. Bella will be OOC in this story and Sam…well; we didn't really get to know him well enough in my eyes, so he really has no mold that I can break. Other than that I hope you enjoy my story and I can only hope that you really like it enough to review. So please read and review. **

**Side notes: Bella is Quilette; her mother is Renee, married to Charlie. They are both Quilette, which explains Bella. Yes, the Cullen family will be involved in this story, jut not right away. Sam and Emily were never together, nor was Leah. This is a clean slate, Bella and Sam. **

**Bella, Jacob and Quil: seventeen.**

**Sam, Jared: Nineteen. (Yes, they are both police men, and you can enter the Police Academy right out of high school.)**

**Paul, Embry: seventeen. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Twilight characters, nor do I own the settings, plots, or over all creations, it all belongs to S.M—no copyright infringement intended. **

**Boarders**

**Chapter One: I hate this town**

"I hate this fucking place." I supplied whilst taking a deep drag on my cigarette, and blowing the smoke in the direction of Jake. "I hear you." He nodded, and ran a hand through his hair. I smiled at that, and briefly wondered if it was as soft as it looked.

I looked around me, staring at the same scenery I had been seeing for years now. Tall green tress stood tall and proudly, mocking the world with their vibrant green. The giant beasts lined the side of the road, an intricate piping neither Jake nor I cared for. I pulled my gaze off the annoying vegetation and snapped, "Where the fuck is Quil? He was supposed to be here while ago."

Jake shrugged lazily, his laid back attitude seeping into his nature. I sighed and scowled, it was in these moments that I despised his aloof outlook. I wiggled the rolled tobacco between my fingertips, allowing the ashes to float away. I took another drag, fuming just like my cigarette.

I hated when Quil did this, he was the only one between the three of with a car and this lead is to constantly relying on his undependable ass. I let dead release fall to the ground, squishing the stub under my combat boots. The cinders faded instantly against the wet pavement and I was once again reminded by my distaste for this sad excuse of a reservation.

La Push was located close to a bum fuck town called Forks—don't dare make a cutlery joke. It was constantly wet here, or cold, sometimes both if we were lucky. There was absolutely nothing to do here. All we had were bon fires, cliff diving, getting pissed drunk, that and trying not to get caught by Sam Uley. That was hard to pull off, trust me. I had regular run ins with my dear and favorite cop Sam.

He lived, breathed, and probably slept by the rules. Sam was such a hard ass that he picked you up on the most random and dumbest crimes ever. For example, that prick gave me what he called a generous warning for loitering. What a croc of shit. He is just as board as everybody else so he wrangles us all in because he has nothing better to do.

I huffed an angry puff of air, and nearly cried in relief when I heard the coughing and sputtering of Quil's truck. The old car rumbled up the road and came to a groaning halt in front of Jake and me. I glowered as Quil's lanky form unfolded out from the truck. He walked over with pleased smile on his lips, and I glowered even more.

"Where the hell have you been?" My voice was rough, and angry as I spoke to him. His eyes narrowed and supplied, "My Dad was on my ass 'cause I broke my curfew again, sorry your royal highness."

"Apology accepted." I said curtly. Quil and I got along for the most part, but sometimes we just rubbed each other the wrong way. We bickered constantly, but it was all in good fun. He got mad when I stole his truck, and I got mad when he made me wait, simple as that. Although that never stopped us from repeating our offences, no matter how many times we sparred.

I looked to Jacob who was watching our entire exchange with a small smirk on his face. I rolled my eyes and walked over to the truck hopping into the bed, seeing as there was only room for two people in the cab. "Do you two fuck-tards need an invitation? Get in the frickin' truck, and let's go." I ordered, glaring at them.

Jake smiled and cooed, "I love you too, baby." I rolled my eyes in response, watching as the two of them slipped into the cab of our pathetic excuse of a ride. I slapped the top of the vehicle letting them know it was time to get out of here. We drove over to the diner, and found a good parking spot.

I hopped out of the bed of the truck, landing with a loud smack as the sole of my boots hit the pavement. With Quil and Jake flanking me on either side I entered the restaurant, a large bell clanging overhead notifying our entrance to the other patrons. I nodded in the direction of Sue, the owner and slipped into my regular booth.

I was sitting next to Jake, the menu up in front of my face as I pretended read the lists of foods I was already familiar with. None of us spoke, or routine practiced and cemented over years of Friday nights. After I had chosen my meal I set the laminated booklet down and swept my gaze around the diner.

"Looks like Sammy-boy is starting his shift early tonight." I observed. Jake grunted at my obvious statement and continued to read his menu. Quil, on the other hand, snapped his head up and searched for the familiar face.

"Fuck." He said under his breath. "Care to share, sunshine?" I queried. He looked up from his menu and said, as if it were obvious, "We won't be able to make a liquor run now. He will be patrolling, and god knows he watched everything that crosses the boarder like a freaking hawk."

"Well if you hadn't been late that wouldn't be a problem now would it?" I challenged, with a glare. "Let it go, Bells, let it go." Quil responded, knowing I was right, but not admitting it.

I sighed, disappointed that my Friday night wasn't looking up. I suppose it was scary how we had memorized Sam Uley's schedule for work. Although it was mildly stalker-like, we didn't get caught as often as we did in the past. Due to the fact we knew his shifts it allowed us to run into Port Angeles to grab some booze before he started, therefore decreasing our chances at being caught.

Sam worked Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and every second Sunday. I had know idea as to how he landed being a part time police officer, but he did. I was probably because everyone in La Push—well not everyone, the Elders really—loved Sam. I do not understand why, I mean what makes him _so_ special? I pushed the pestering thoughts away and focused on the present.

Our waitress walked over pen in hand ready to write, "What can I get you?" She obviously wasn't pleased to be hear, the tone to her voice spoke volumes. I went first and asked for scrambled eggs, bacon and toast. Jake ordered their all day breakfast platter along with Quil.

"So what do you want to do tonight?" Quil asked breaking the silence. I didn't respond, my vocal cords were rendered silent as I was pinned down with the heavy gaze of Sam Uley. His deep brown eyes were dark, shaded by the secrets that seemed to be swimming within the dark depths. I held the stare, even though I felt the need to look away, shield myself from its invasive penetration. I frowned in concentration determined not to bow down. He smirked, causing my gaze to drop to his lips. I examined the fullness of them, the soft flesh looking warm and inviting.

My eyes flickered across his face; taking in his strong jaw line that was soft yet firm, the straight nose that sat between two high cheek bones. The sculpted and angular structure of his face was not uncommon around La Push, most looked similar and shared many of the same features. However gazing at him he seemed different; his features seemed more daring and exotic than most. As much as I hated to admit it, Sam truly was a fine specimen, even though he was highly annoying.

I was yanked back into reality by Quil waving a hand in front of my face; I scowled and slapped it away, trying not to think of my recent ogling. I looked to him expectantly, trying to pick up the conversation I had obviously missed.

"I was asking for your idea as to what you want to do tonight. So, got any?" Quil supplemented. I thought briefly and responded, "We could hang with Paul and Embry, plus they usually have a pretty good stash."

"We can't, they have joined Sam's little cult, they haven't been around a lot lately, something about helping Sam out. That's a huge croc of shit because Embry and Paul hated Sam just as much as we do, and now all of a sudden they worship the ground he walks on." Jacob huffed, clearly not enthused with our conversation topic.

"How'd you find that out?" Quil pestered, wanting to know more about our former friends. Jacob sighed. "I cornered Paul and threatened that I would tell his Dad where he kept all his hash. He told me that he was helping Sam and he didn't have time for us anymore, he was too busy."

I snorted, trying to hide the fact that I was slightly hurt that we were no longer important. I glanced at Quil, noting the look of hurt that he wore. My heart lurched, as much as I yelled and harped at him, I truly did care for Quil, along with Jacob.

"Fuck'em, we don't need them, and even if we did, we don't have the time for them." I mocked trying to lift our spirits. Jake and Quil barked out a sore laugh and nodded, mumbling that I was right.

Shortly after that the food arrived, the plates were set in front of us before we devoured the food quickly, not stopping to make conversation. With our plates cleared and our stomachs full, we split the bill, and departed from the diner.

I was leaning against the truck listening to the annoying banter of Jake and Quil. It was similar to the annoying buzz of an insect very close to your ear; you could ignore or you could stop the God awful sound. I decided to go with the latter:

"Would you two shut the fuck up already? You sound like two fish wives arguing over today's catch," My grumbling rendered them silent, and I took a deep breath—appreciating the silence before proceeding. "We have a couple options: one we try and sneak booze past the boarder, or two we take it from our own houses."

We remained silent for a few moments before agreeing that our safest bet was to take it from home. I hopped into the bed of the truck, waiting for Jake and Quil to clamber into the cab. I knocked on the metal, signaling them to drive before Sam Uley came out. This was another thing Sam had warned us about; I could practically hear his deep voice in my head, _each passenger in the vehicle must be seated properly with a seatbelt in order to insure your safety. _I rolled my eyes, just as I did the night he reprimanded us. What is the danger? I mean our greatest risk is a car accident, even still what would we hit, a tree? Granted it sounded bad, but we were smart. We didn't do this unless the roads were too wet, if they were we would hitch a ride with someone else. The night we were pulled over was a rare sunny day, allowing the roads to dry, and more importantly completely safe for our mode of transportation.

Soon we hit Jake's house, and he quickly hopped out of the car, my voice chasing after him, "Run, Forest, run!" I chuckled as did Quil as Jacob flipped me the bird before running into his house.

I slipped out of the back of the car, hopping out as per usual, and slipped into the cab. I sat beside Quil, who was gripping the steering wheel in a death grip, causing his knuckles to stand out against his skin in a paler color than his bronze skin tone. I placed my own bronze hand over his and smoothed out the tensed muscles. "Quil, dude, it'll be fine. Paul and Embry will come back. If not, well, let's not think about it." I soothed, rubbing small circles on his hand.

Quil looked at me, nodding in understanding. I didn't wear my heart on my sleeve, and I was usually brash, crude, and sarcastic as opposed to sweet and cuddly. He and I both knew that this little appearance of sugar and spice was brief, but appreciated. I withdrew my hand ad looked to Jake's house once I heard his heavy footfalls. He tossed me a paper shopping bag that held two six packs of Alexander Keith. I raised my eyebrows, and remarked, "I never knew Billy to be a Keith man."

"That is because he isn't. Rachel's boyfriend is over, and brought his own drinks." Jacob said answering my unspoken question. I nodded smirking at the thought of Rachel's boyfriend missing his beer.

Jake hopped into the bed, taking his turn. You may not believe me but the bed of a truck isn't the most comfortable place in the car. We moved on to Quil's house which was just a short distance from Jacob's. Quil exited the car, and quickly walked to his front door. It wasn't until he was inside that I slid out of the cab, placing the beers at my feet that I looked up to Jake, who was standing resting his folded arms on the top of the cab, that I sighed, "Do you think he'll be okay?"

Both Jake and I knew I wasn't referring to Quil getting caught by his Dad or his mom. "Yeah he'll be okay." Jake said indifferently, but I knew he was just as worried as I was. "I know he'll work through it but he was really close to Embry." I remarked.

"Jesus Bells, he'll be fine!" Jake growled, and I whipped around to glare at him. "Fuck you Jake! If you want to pretend that you aren't slightly miffed at the fact that Embry and Paul ditched us for a guy they hated, go ahead. But don't you dare snap at me for showing some concern, and you can be the liar here, because Quil and I both know you are just as upset by this as we are!" My rant finished with a scathing glare.

Jake steeled himself, and a look of passive acceptance over took his features. I sighed, I hated when he did this. This is the look he used when he didn't want to talk, successfully closing himself off. He used this look often when I breeched a topic he didn't like, and I knew not to bring it up in the near future. Jake created this mask when his mother passed away. He was only nine, but he knew enough. I remember looking at him at the cemetery, him holding my hand, staring straight ahead as if his sisters weren't sobbing two feet away, and as if this was not his mother's funeral. He had used the mask ever since, impenetrable to outside threats.

Quil came outside then, empty handed I might add, with a scowl on his face. He walked past us grumbling all the way, "I swear that old fart guards the door. The moment I walk in I face the Spanish Inquisition. Fucker needs to get a life…" I chuckled slightly, envisioning Quil's Dad confronting Quil for coming back into the house.

Jake slipped down into a sitting position as Quil and I climbed into the car. We took off fro my house, the car covered with a comfortable silence. The car screeched and groaned as Quil pulled up in front of my house and thankfully, the cruiser was not in the drive way, this only left getting around Renee.

I exited the truck wordlessly, and looked back to see Jake offering a cheeky smile. I frowned, which turned into a grimace when I heard a light squish. I immediately looked down at saw that I had stepped in dog shit. I whipped my head around to see Quil and Jake in peals of laughter. Their guffaws were loud and I had to shout, "Yeah laugh it up fuckers!"

I continued walking, cursing dogs in general. After removing my left boot I limped up the stairs onto my porch and into my house. I through the hallway, briefly peeking into my living room to see if my mother was seated on the love seat like she usually was, but she was absent. I continued into the kitchen to see her there digging through the fridge, "Mom?" I questioned.

Her face popped out, taking in my appearance, my now filthy combat boot, and said, "Bella, it is fate, it is telling you to stop wearing combat boots." He closed the kitchen door and plucked the boot from me, bringing it over to the sink as I rolled my eyes. Renee had never liked my boots, but my Dad did, needless to say he has never taken me shoe shopping since.

She began to clean of the boot, her face scrunched up into a look of disgust. "Where did Dad go?" I asked leaning my lower back against the counter top next to the sink. "To see Billy, something about planning a fishing trip." My Mom mumbled, scrubbing at the sole of my boot.

I nodded and placed a kiss on her cheek when she passed me my now clean boot. I slipped it back on and ran up and into my room, searching under my bed for the Grey Goose bottle of vodka I had placed there earlier in the week. I saw it immediately and pulled the bottle to me and stood up. I peeked from my doorway, seeing the bathroom door closed. I assumed my mother was in it and I quickly scampered down the hallway, and clomped down the steps, my boots made it impossible to be anything near quiet. I departed from my home with a quick shout, "Love you Mom, and don't wait up!"

I bolted for the truck already hearing my Mother's screechy voice telling me to be home by one and no later. I knew it somehow made her feel better, giving me a curfew, but I always broke it.

I propelled myself into the open door, bumping into Quil slightly who was staring straight ahead. It was only now that I noted his tense and stoic posture; I gently tapped him on the arm, and said, "Quil?" I normally would have told him to hurry the fuck up and drive already but I knew something was up and it would not be wise to irritate him in his irate state.

"Look." He said through gritted teeth. I followed his fixed gaze and a snarl formed on my face the moment I saw Paul and Embry walking up the road towards their own homes. We still hadn't pulled away and the two of them were considerably closer.

It was now that I noticed how broad their shoulders were, the muscles that were defined and chiseled, and how much taller they were, sure they had gone through puberty already, or so I thought. I gave a gasp and Paul's head moved to fix his gaze on me, and I gave a glare in response, letting him know just how unhappy I was to see him.

"Drive." I said in a cold voice, knowing if we stayed here much longer, one of us was bound to start some shit with them and I was not willing to. However Quil's old car wasn't fast enough and Jacob had already left his position and was stalking towards the two boys, who looked to be men.

The difference between Jake, Embry and Paul was startling. It was hard to believe a mere two weeks ago Embry and Paul had just as lanky as Jake, and just as tall, where as now Jake seemed dwarfed when standing near them. I didn't even hesitate in jumping out of the car and marching over, with Quil hot on my heels.

Not once had I ever felt intimidated around any of the guys, never. However now I felt quite small at my five foot and two inch stature, and physical appearances aside Paul and Embry exuded an aura of absolute control and danger. I felt their presence ghost over my skin, raising the hairs on the back of my neck, making me straighten my posture in attempt to match their frightening stance.

The silence between the five of us was awkward and thick with tension. We remained frozen in that state for a few moments before Jacob spoke, "What the fuck guys? Where the hell have you been?" I knew Jacob was trying to play this off normal, giving them one last chance before this friendship was severed completely. It was Embry that spoke, a deep rumble that fitted his new physique, "Busy."

A look of shock crossed Jacob's face, he had clearly not anticipated to be brushed off so simply. Nor did I, I didn't even expect them to jump in with our old routine, lapse back into our friendship, however I may have hoped we would gat some answers that were more than on syllable. "Busy doing what? Oh, right, I forgot you two were busy worshipping the ground Sam Uley walks on! You know I never pegged either of you for turn coats, but I guess I was wrong." I huffed, my bitter speech lost on them.

They simply stood absorbing all my abuse, and I was about to pull both Jake and Quil away when Paul spoke, "Sam is a good guy, don't judge him." I was shocked in to silence. The guy who called Sam an uptight cop who had a stick shoved up his ass was _defending_ him? I shook my head, if not in disgust but disappointment, they were joining the ranks.

I could feel my hackles rising, the anger slowly boiling and bubbling, waiting to spew forth. I looked to my left to see Quil searing Embry with his own angry glare. "I bet he is." I said with a sarcastic chuckle.

A feral growl rumbled from Paul, and I frowned not knowing how it was possible. Jake mirrored my look as did Quil, all of us were clearly unsure if we had really heard such a sound from him. I was about to say something else when I was distracted by the slight trembling of Paul's fingers, the entire motion seemed to climb up his arms, and I followed it, curious as to what was happening. It was in this moment that a cemented and final thought entered my mind, something was wrong with Paul, and possibly Embry, and whatever it was, it was not normal.

I backed down and cooled my heels, remembering that I didn't need nor want to start anything. Silently I pulled on Jake's arm and murmured, "C'mon, let's go." Jacob stepped away, his gaze still fixed on our former friends and all three of us walked back to the truck. I climbed in slamming the door shut loudly, causing Paul and Embry to watch our departure. I felt their burning gaze searing the truck, trying to get to us through the metal, and in response I raised my hand out of the passenger window and stuck my middle finger up; it stood proudly, shouting my message: _fuck_ _you_.

We drove in a thick embedded silence, all of us mulling over what had just happened. I tried to shake off the sound that Paul had made, and I shuddered slightly. It wasn't natural, it wasn't normal, and most of all it wasn't right. Paul was my age, and up until two weeks he had been just like Jake and Quil; lanky, slightly built, and at an average height. I couldn't fathom how they had grown in just two weeks into the men that they were now.

I inwardly groaned and watched as Quil made a U-turn, heading back for his house. I knew the ride was short, but it felt considerably long with the solemn silence that had weighed down the truck, so needless to say I was more than pleased when we pulled up to Quil's house.

We all stepped out of the car, and I wordlessly handed Jacob his beers, while I held the neck of my own bottle tightly. Quil fell into step beside Jake and I as we headed for First Beach, all of us already knowing where to go. We collapsed onto the sand and sat in a semi-circle like we did each Friday night. We always started at the beach and if there was a party we would make our way there, but sadly there was no party tonight.

I unscrewed the cap and took a slurp, then passing it along to Quil. Silence remained, and I was getting fed up. I knew our encounter with Embry and Paul had rattled us but I refused to let it control us. "They were always assholes anyway, what did we expect?" I remarked, taking the bottle from Jake. He grumbled, "At times, but now…definitely." I chuckled mirthlessly and looked to Quil who was nodding in agreement.

All of us knew we were playing the blame game, not wanting to acknowledge that fact that we truly were upset by Embry and Paul's absence. I wondered, or a small part of me did, if they were just as upset as we were. I highly doubted it, but I couldn't help but be curious. Sighing I watched the waves gently stroke the shore, continuously, and loyally.

The beach was probably one of La Push's more redeeming qualities. I liked the beach, it was constant. No matter what, I could always come here for the comforting sounds of the waves paying homage to the sand, or the simple roar that an ocean seems to cry. Plus, it housed great parties.

I passed on my next swipe of the bottle, the buzz had already begun. I wasn't drunk, nor slurring my words, but I was high on the alcohol; making me feel warm, and relaxed. Quil screwed the cap back on the bottle and slumped to a relaxed position, his torso angled away from the sand as he leaned on his bent elbows.

"I cannot wait to get out of here." Quil remarked, Jake and I bobbed our heads like the waves before us. "As soon as we graduate." I amended, leaning back on my arms.

That was our plan, each and every one of us. I planned to go onto University, or take whatever ticket I could get out of here.

I sometimes wonder when I officially took a disliking to La Push; I have never really been pin point the moment when my hatred had manifested. It could have been that I had always longed for the sun ever since we left the reservation in Arizona when I was six, or the fact that it was just pure boredom. I wished for some excitement, something to do. If I wanted to what the rest of my life would be like I would stay in La Push, but that life was not for me. I wanted to live my life with out knowing what was peeking around the corner, I desired to take risks and accept the consequences I hadn't anticipated. However that was an impossible fete in La Push, which only spurred on my escape plan.

I was brought in to reality by Jake saying, "Fuck! Get up!" I looked at Jake who had now scrambled to his feet and had quickly tossed our drinks into a nearby pocket of trees. I unfolded myself into a standing position and looked frantically for what had caused his bout of paranoia.

I saw the blue and red lights before I heard the siren, and I shouted our orders, "Run! It's Sam!" I took off like a bat out of hell not waiting for them to reply. The sand worked against me, slowing my sprint into a quick run. I was off the sand and onto the pavement of the road when I heard foot falls behind me. I peeked over my shoulder and saw the exotic angular features I had admired earlier this evening, coupled with the sight of Jake and Quil being forcefully pushed into a couple of cruisers. "Shit." I hissed and pushed myself faster, lengthened my strides, and quickened my pace. However my extra lengths were lost on the chase and I knew Sam was gaining on me.

I could feel him behind me now, and my only concern was when he was going to take me down. Sam was nicer than most cops when it came to taking down a convict, he would try not to take you down on pavement. I veered closer to the beach, hoping the sand would soften the blow. Now the remaining detail was when, when was I going to hit the ground?

My breath came in pants now, from the exertion of my sprint and from the anticipation of when Sam was going to strike. After all the times Sam had chased me, I had never timed when he would take me down. I gave a shriek when I felt his arms around my waist and a scream as we toppled to the ground.

We hit the ground with a somewhat soft thud. He landed onto of me, quickly pinning me to the ground with one of his hands trapping my own wrists above my head. We remained in that position my chest heaving up and down, my heart hammering against my chest, his own body pressed against mine. His eyes danced over my face, as if checking to see if I was alright, resting on my lips more than once. I noticed this and sassily jabbed, "Perv." I did this trying to disguise the fact that I really did enjoy feeling his large form encompassing my own, trapping me, and pressed against me.

Sam heaved a growl similar to Paul's, and I stared at him agape. Whatever was wrong with Embry and Paul had everything to do with Sam, and I knew now something was very wrong with them.

Sam sat up—his knees on either side of my torso—before he flipped me over onto my stomach, and shackled my wrists together in the cuffs he had ready. He yanked my up as if I weighed nothing, and forcefully guided me towards the cruiser. The metal of the cuffs felt cool against my burning flesh, and I couldn't help but notice the twinge of pain against my wrists due to the tight embrace of the cuffs.

I noticed that Quil and Jake were brooding in the back of the car as we approached and I through them a cheeky mile, playing this entire ordeal as if was nothing. This was my first official arrest, on multiple occasions I had been given a serious talking too, or a warning, but this was my first ride into the station. Sure Sam had chased me before, catching me than releasing after he deemed me ready to be set loose on the streets. However now, in this present predicament, I couldn't say I thought some was going to let us off with a slap on the wrist.

Sam yanked the door open and shoved me down, landing me next to Quil who looked quite panicked. "Quil calm down, everything is going to be fine." My confidence was fake, but sounded believable to Quil's ears, and he nodded. However he still continued to frantically move his eyes around the cruiser as if with each sweeping glance an escape would appear to him. I shook my head and attempted not to put a lot of my weight onto my cuffed wrists.

Sam entered the car and his eyes briefly flashed to me in his review mirror, I scowled and looked out the window. We entered a slow pace as we wheeled down the street and towards the station.

The drive was short, yet extremely painful due to the fact that I could feel Sam's intense gaze upon me every now and then. We pulled up and Sam helped me out of the car, roughly grabbing my elbow, while two other officers helped Quil and Jake out of the vehicle. We entered the building, and Sam ushered me into a room for interviews. I frowned, and looked to him. Sam didn't supply any answer other than pushing me down and into a chair.

After fifteen minutes of waiting in the chair like a good little girl I suspected that Sam Uley was a vindictive bastard who was on the other side of the glass watching me squirm in the silence. Huffing I blew my long bangs out of my eyes and tapped my foot against the floor in impatience. The sound only irritated me further and I stilled my movements, and began to count the tiles on the ceiling, and walls.

I was up to thirty four when Sam entered, with a pleased smile on his face. I wanted to question him and demand why he was so smug, but I knew that things went a lot more smoothly when you agreed with their every word and acted as though they were doing you a huge favor by hauling you into the station. I smiled tightly and bit my tongue, stopping my sassy reply before it could escape.

He sat down in front of me and laced his hands together on the desk between us. I raised an eye brow, my only show that I was curious, and waited for him. We sat in silence for a while, this time I knew he was being spiteful having me sit here, and I was about ready to continue counting the tiles when he finally spoke.

"I have managed to convince my superior commanding officer to agree to my suggestion." I frowned; this made me even more irked, all I knew was that he made a 'suggestion'. I couldn't control myself and snapped, "And do pray tell what is your suggestion?"

For a moment I actually thought Sam might drop the serious cop façade and chuckle, but I only got a slight smug smile before he teased, "Wouldn't you like to know?" I glared and took it upon myself to speak freely, "Do you always answer a question with a question?" Sam shrugged in response and proceeded with his speech.

"You will go on my shifts with me for two weeks, and you also submit an essay discussing the importance of not drinking under age," he coupled this with a pointed glare before continuing. "I advise that you take me up on this deal, your other options are not too bright."

I nodded, and actually trusted that he was throwing me a bone here. "Will Jake and Quil be there?" I asked, wanting to know what exactly what my time with him would entail. "Do I look like I was born yesterday? Of course they won't be there, the last thing I need to do is to have to keep track of the three of you hell raisers." I rolled my eyes at his out dated vocabulary, whilst remarking, "You certainly don't _sound_ like you were born yesterday."

Sam rolled his eyes at my jab and walked behind me to un-cuff me, allowing me to stand. I pulled my wrist up to my eyes for close inspection, seeing if there would be bruising. I touched the tender skin and rubbed it with a grimace. Sam, having seen this, pulled my wrists into his hands, inspecting them on his own.

His touch was hot, warmer than normal, he felt as though he was running a fever. I frowned and it deepened when I heard Sam's voice, "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" I hook my head, and said, "No it's fine, _I'm_ fine." My assurances were lost and Sam continued to sputter out apologies as if he had just damaged a precious and rare object. "Sam!" I reprimanded. He looked up immediately, almost obediently, and I soothed, "It's fine, you didn't do anything wrong."

He dropped my wrists and stepped out of the way so I could walk through the now open doorway. The small of my back was flushed with the same heat as my wrists were as Sam guided me down the hallway and towards the lobby with his hand resting on my back.

I heard my mother before we rounded the corner of the hallway, her screeching voice even more painful than the one she had used earlier this evening when I left the house. When I came into view, my Mom stopped yelling at the officer closest to her and turned her searing gaze upon me. I nearly shrank back but I held still and carried the heavy weight of her heavy stare.

I left Sam after he dismissed me with, "See you on Monday." I quickly walked over to my Mother, who grabbed my elbow and pulled me out of the station and into the cruiser in which my Dad was seated. I cringed slightly, not excited at the prospect of having to have my ear chewed off by the both of them.

I slid into the back, my Mom slamming my door shut for me and entering the passenger side and repeating her actions with her own door. It was silent until we pulled out of the station, that's when the speeches began.

They were all quite similar, beginning with phrases like, 'Isabella Marie Swan, I am severely disappointed if you…' or 'I am so angry with you right now, I don't even know what to say…' I nodded along with each, hoping if I didn't protest they would stop talking all together.

Finally when we reached home, I slowly sauntered up the walkway, avoiding the dog shit, and pushed the door open. We always kept the door open, there were never ever any robberies in our area, or even in La Push that matter.

I was halfway up the stairs by the time my Mom entered with a shrill, "Young lady, where do you think you are going?" I stiffened in impatience and frustration when I replied in a curt voice, "I am going up to my room to think about what I have done, and I will gladly accept whatever punishment you deliver." I didn't even wait for her sputtered reply, and I marched up the remainder of the stairs.

I entered my bedroom, kicking off my boots and peeling off my socks along the way and flopped onto my bed with a groan. I peeked at my clock and saw that it was midnight, and for once, I was home before curfew. I chuckled at the thought and pulled my phone to me from the small table located to the left of my bed.

I flipped it open and scrolled through my contacts before selecting Jake's number and sending him a quick text:

_Hey, who are you riding with?_

Jake replied immediately and I could practically see his look of pure loathing.

_Paramedics, but I doubt I will see many patients—it is La Push._

I snorted and nodded my head before replying.

_I hear you; I probably won't be seeing many convicts either. Later Jake, see you…well when my Mom lets me out of the house._

I closed my phone after questioning Quil, who is apparently, will be spending his evenings with another local cop, I think his name is Jared, but I could be wrong. Sighing I rolled over on to my back and stared at the ceiling. So this is what it is like to be in before curfew, with absolutely nothing to do. I groaned in the agony that is boredom, and tried to think of things I could possibly do within the confines of my room.

I pulled out my book, _Twisted_, and flipped through it until I found my book mark. I read into the wee hours of the morning and soon I was far too relaxed and sleepy to stop my eyes from drooping closed.

I drowsily stood up from my bed, the heavy spell of sleep still over me, and changed into my pajamas. I collapsed onto my bed, my eyes falling closed.

It wasn't until I was laying still, my mind clear of all thoughts—ready for sleep to pull me under—that I was hit with the thought that I was going to be spending the last two weeks of my summer alone with Sam Uley.

Fuck.

**A/N: This is one of the longest chapters I have ever written. I really hope you liked it, and I know it seems like we are moving slow, but I have big plans for our dear Bella and Sam. So all I can ask is that you all be patient and let me know what you think. **

**Play list:**

**Four Kicks—Kings of Leon**

**Communication break down—Led Zeppelin**

**Date with the Night—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**If you review I will continue this story if not, well let's not talk about that. So anyway please read and review. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay here is another chapter for the story 'Boarders', I hope you all enjoy it. I would like to give a huge thank you to everyone, thanks so much for reviewing; it means the world to me. Oh, and before I get ahead of myself, thanks to everyone who added my stories to their favorites, this lets me know you care as well. **

**Anyway I am pleased that y'all read my story and I am pretty sure the majority of you enjoyed it even with the ridiculous amount of profanities I inserted. I don't curse like a sailor at all but I thought it necessary to really emphasize and highlight the new Bella. **

**Well... I will leave you all to read the story, please enjoy, and let me know if you did. PM me if you have any questions, or even recommendations, or suggestions, ideas, etc. **

**Disclaimer:****I don't own any of the Twilight characters, nor do I own the settings, plots, or over all creations, it all belongs to S.M—no copyright infringement intended. **

**Boarders**

**Chapter Two: Spastic parents, and stoic cops**

I awoke the next morning ready to make plans and enjoy the remainder of my summer when I quickly remembered that I was probably grounded, and would have to remain in this house for the next two weeks or so. I wondered if it was possible to sleep the majority of the time, or maybe I could induce myself into a coma so I didn't have to deal with the spatter of shit that hit the fan last night.

I groaned and rolled over onto my stomach, and peeked at my clock, which read ten o'clock. I heaved a growl and wished my parents were understanding and let me off. I knew it was wishful thinking and it would take miracle for them to say, 'No problem dear, we understand, it is perfectly normal for you to go drinking at the beach'. Seriously, the Elders would have to show up at my house and tell my parents that it was okay before they even thought of letting me off easy. I could picture it now, the entire council in my living room, standing up for me, telling my parents that they should let me live a little. I snorted at the imagery, and nestled further into my covers.

I was about to coax myself back into a sleep when my door was opened abruptly with such force that it slammed back into the wall with a loud bang. I shot up in my bed, ready to throw the nearest item at the invading enemy. However the sight before me was far worse than a burglar; there stood my mother in her pink frilly house coat, her hair tussled and in a disarray that only came with sleep, holding a tall bottle of Smirnoff Vanilla vodka.

If my mother could be spitting fire she would be. He eyes were wild, and furious, one hand was firmly gripping her own hip and I am quite surprised she wasn't wincing due to the fact she held her bone with a less than kind embrace, her mouth a was agape and angry puffs of air were escaping.

My mother had been clearly raiding the house for my liquor stash, and I believe she found the stash I kept in the bathroom hidden behind my tampons and pads. I gave a sheepish smile and slowly crawled off the bed and cautiously stood in front of her, and I truly believed that if I made any sudden movements I would risk being attacked by my own mother.

I felt my heart sink into my stomach and land with a loud thud at my feet. I knew in this instant I was in deep shit, that I would probably never leave the house until I left for University. I continued to watch her, and after she took a gulp of air, she spoke in a shockingly calm voice.

"Isabella Marie Swan, I knew that you were doing less than legal activities, but this is incorrigible, and I have never been more disappointed." Those simple words struck me deep, and I wanted to be able to brush it off, but I couldn't. My mother was able to cut through my thick skin as if were butter, and it left me vulnerable and wailing for her as if I were still a little girl.

I stiffened, as I felt the transformation of her disappointment become my own disappointment. I was about ready to throw myself at her feet, and beg for her forgiveness, however instead I settled on a sad apology, "I am sorry. What can I do?" My mother sighed and looked down. I knew I had gone one step too far last night, and I didn't know how to fix it.

My mother and I had always been close and still to this day we never fought over anything too important, and this was our first major battle since that time I punched Leah Clearwater in the tenth grade and got suspended. I found that our closeness was a double edged sword; it could work to our advantage, but when I did something wrong, such as getting arrested, it made the weight of my mother's disappointment all the more less bearable.

I held a strong discontent for the word 'disappointment', in my eyes it was the culmination of all emotions; my mom might no be angry, or upset, but she was _disappointed_. To me that word held so much weight and brought me to my knees each time she used it.

I guess I was an interesting juxtaposition; I was brash and crude, and leaked an inner confidence, and then the moment my Mother scolded my I was soft and ready for her to make it all better. I sighed, "Mom I really am sorry…I was just…look, I can't give you a specific reason as to why I did it, but I can tell you that I am sorry, and I am willing to do anything to make it better, or prove to you how sorry I really am."

She pursed her lips in a firm line, and spoke in an even voice that his most of her anger, "Get the rest." My eyes widened, and I instantly thought of all the places I had hid my stash within the house. My shoulders slumped, and for an instant I contemplated telling her that she had just found my last bottle, but she and I both knew that if she tore my bedroom up right now she would find a mini-mart of booze.

I turned on my heel and headed for my closet wordlessly trying not to look as though someone had run over my puppy with their car. I approached the door with dread weighing on me heavily, but I thought of my mother's forgiveness and hoped I would feel a little better once I handed it all over.

I twisted the knob and pulled the door open, and jerkily sifted through my clothes and was less than pleased when I felt the cool and smooth feeling of a bottle against my hand when I moved a sweater. I fished the Bacardi rum bottle out of my closet and placed it on the floor just outside the closet, and I smirked when I heard my mother's intake of breath when she saw me add a Crown Royal bottle to my growing pile. I kept rooting around my closet and was finished soon after with four bottles sitting on the floor.

Still silent as ever I walked over to my night stand and opened one of its drawers only to pull out air plane sized liquors that were a variety of my favorites. "Where did you get those?!" My mother shrieked and I it took all I had not to laugh, I shrugged and nonchalantly said, "Flight attendants don't guard their carts very well, and the plane to Arizona was very large."

We had gone to Arizona for two weeks earlier in the summer to visit our friends on out old reservation; we had been doing it for years now. My mother nodded and waved me onto continue my search.

I was through with my room and had added a bottle of HQ to my pile, and several more tiny bottles. With that I walked up to my mom and quietly murmured, "That's all." She huffed and ordered, "Get it all and take it into the kitchen."

Her voice, this time, was cold, and held a twinge of sadness. I almost wanted her yell at me, or even be disappointed; because those were far better that what my mom was giving me right now. My mom rarely cried that I go from her, and it took a lot to make her upset.

All was quiet except for the clanking of the bottles and the groan of the stairs as we headed for the kitchen. I remained silent out of fear and almost respect for my mom, for I knew she was going to discipline me on her own terms.

I knew not to interrupt her as she unscrewed each and every cap from the bottles and then commanded, "Pour it all out." My mouth grew dry, and I almost gave a cry of protest, but her glare silenced me, and I petulant like the child that I was, walked over to the sink and began to pour the expensive alcohol down the drain. I practically whimpered as I poured the HQ into the sink, the poor guy hadn't even been opened yet. The airplane bottles were a simple twist of my wrist and when the last one was done I turned to my mother and leaned against the counter like I had the other night.

I gazed at her expectantly and she sighed, "Bella, I don't know how to approach this because up until now, you had only done silly things and you were lucky enough that you got away with it unscathed, however last night you got away with it, but at a price."

I nodded and waited for her to continue. "Last night gambled your future, and my trust, and your father's. What University would have taken you had the full charges been pressed?" My head snapped up at that and up until now I had even thought of that, and I looked away ashamed of my lack of awareness of the big picture. She nodded and continued with her well thought out speech.

"You have always been a wild child, and I monitored you closely, but apparently not close enough. I feel like I have failed you as a parent." My anger rose in a great wave and took me with it as I nearly shouted, "No! Mom you haven't failed me, _I_ have failed _you_. For that I am sorry, but please, please do not blame yourself."

She nodded and smoothed down her robe before sighing, "You must stop this Isabella. I don't mean stop going out or stop having a social life, but I am demanding that you think of your future and stop jeopardizing it as if it is easily replaced, because I can tell you it is not. I know you will make me proud, but you did not last night, and I expect you to prove me wrong in the future, I expect you to listen and head my advice."

I nodded and spoke in a meek voice, one I hadn't used since I was child, "I'm sorry Mom, and do you forgive me?" She nodded and spoke, "Ah, I am your mother, of course I forgive you, I forgave you the moment I saw you, but the question is: do you forgive yourself?" She looked at me pointedly and remarked, "You have always been far too hard on yourself, I remember in the tenth grade when you got suspended, you sulked around even though you knew I had forgiven you, so please, do us all a favor and forgive yourself as easily as I did."

I shook my head, not assenting to my own forgiveness and turned away to take all the bottles out to the recycling bin. "Where do you think you are going?" My mother asked, and I turned to reply, "Putting this in the recycling?" My voice ended with an upward inflection making it into a question rather than the statement it was supposed to be. She nodded with a chuckle, in response I frowned and she soothed, "Don't sound so afraid. Alls well, Bella. You won't even have to deal with your father, I told him I would take care of it and I have."

I nodded and stepped out the back door to toss my now absent liquor collection into the designated bin. I remained outside for a while after, sitting on the patio chairs, and was joined by mother who brought the news that would make my day far worse, "Your father has invited Sam Uley to dinner in thanks for letting you off easy, and I expect you to be gracious."

I groaned and whined, "Can't we just sent him a donut or something? I hear cops love them; Dad is living proof of that. Why can't dad be normal and just say 'thanks'

like everybody else?" My mom fixed me with a pointed glare and I sunk into a brooding silence.

I got up with a huff stomped through the house and preceded to march up the stairs showing her just how pleased I was that Sam was coming to dinner. I got into my room and slammed the door before flopping loudly onto the mattress. I grabbed my pillow and shoved my face in it before proceeding to shriek a series of profanities into the feathers.

I heard the tell tale jingle of my cell phone and I flipped it open with a harsh greeting, "What?" I heard Jake's chuckle and then his far too happy voice, "What bug crawled up your ass?"

"My mother and she brought a tic, Sam Uley." I huffed, pulling the hair at my temples as if that would make this evening's prospect less frightening. "Huh?" Jake asked dumfounded, and I chuckled at his confusion.

"My mom invited Sam over to dinner as a thank your or some stupid shit like that. I don't understand why though." I vented into the phone. "That sucks." Jacob said in fake sympathy. "Yeah I bet you are." I countered sarcastically.

"I really am, can't you tell?" Jake said in a pleased tone, displaying that he was more than pleased that I was going to be put through hell tonight. I snorted and observed, "You take far too much pleasure in my happiness."

Jake chuckled and replied, "Yes, but you just love to watch me squirm." I conceded, "I know. However it is far less fun when I am the one being mocked." Jake chuckled and we hung up on the phone shortly after when we heard Billy screaming like a banshee in the back ground.

I relaxed on my bed and wondered what exactly my punishment was. In my eyes spending an entire two weeks with Sam and also giving up my summer was enough. However I could never really tell with my mother, she often surprised me leaving me guessing.

I pushed up and off the bed and yelled, "I'm going in the shower!" If I didn't do this my mother would surely flush the toilet or run the tap water, because of our fucked up plumbing I would feel the change in temperature and find my self in a freezing cold rain, or a scalding heat. I padded into the bathroom and turned the knobs to soothing warmth that I hope would make me forget this entire day entirely.

I stepped into the tub after removing my pajamas, and gave a little hum of appreciation as I felt the warmth run over my body. The caress of the water was welcome and I stood under the spray for a good few moments before moving onto washing my hair. I massaged the now foamy shampoo into my scalp with my fingers and stepped back under the spray allowing the water to wash away the remnants of my shampoo. I proceeded to place conditioner in my hair, rinsing, and washing my body. After stepping under the water I turned it all off and stepped out, pulling my towel to me.

With the towel wrapped securely around my torso I walked through the hallway and entered my room. I gently closed the door and walked over to my closet examining my selection. I shrugged, not really caring, pulled on my favorite jeans and black V-neck T-shirt. I finished my ensemble with my combat boots, sitting on the edge of my bed to lace them up.

I loudly descended the stairs, my boots making me sound like a company hoarse trotting down the stairs. I walked to the kitchen and shrieked, "What the fuck are you doing here?!"

There in my petite kitchen was Sam Uley, a beast of a man, and looked to be a giant next to my mother, who was laughing at what I could only presume to be funny that Sam had said. Although, I found that nearly impossible, Sam was not funny. "Isabella, language!" My mother scolded having heard my shrill voice. "I told him to come over any time he wanted." My mother appeased, glaring at me pointedly which silenced me immediately. When I really wanted to make a smart ass comment on how it was three o'clock no where near to the dinner hour.

I looked away walking over to the fridge, yanking the door open angrily and pulling out a bottle of water. I would have preferred a can of beer, but I didn't think my mother would have approved.

I attempted to unscrew the cap, but the little fucker refused to come off. I growled and tried to twist again but the cap held still, stubborn as the last time. Smiling smugly, I placed my shirt over the cap and proceeded to twist, thinking this would surely solve my problem, however much to my disappointment, the damned cap mocked me and did not obey.

"Would you like some help?" A deep voice rumbled, and I looked up to see Sam already reaching for the water bottle. "No!" I screeched, holding my bottle to my chest as if he were about to take away something of significant importance. "I can do on my own, thank you very much." I said in a gruff voice, not wanting his help.

I stepped back, further emphasizing my pure dislike for him, and lack of interest in his peace offering.

I proceeded to attempt to twist the cap off at all angles, from bending over for leverage to knowing on it with my teeth. I growled at it once again and walked over to the counter and smashed the top of the bottle against it. The plastic, pliable as it was, did not relinquish its death hold on the cap, but instead bent in an awkward way. I groaned and marched over to our cutlery drawer before stabbing a stake knife into the plastic top. I spun around with a triumphant, "Hah!" I then proceeded to take a large slurp pleased as the chilled water filled my parched throat.

I walked out of the kitchen, leaving an amused Sam and a sputtering mother, "I am so sorry, she just…she is very independent." I snorted at that and walked out onto the porch letting the door slam back behind me.

I sat down on the swing, rocking ever so slightly into a soothing pace. I wondered when I really began to harbor a dislike for Sam. I had always been on his bad side, on the receiving end of his slander, and that probably filtered into my attitude. However I think it truly manifested when he took Embry and Paul away, in my eyes this was his fault. I had known clues as to what Sam was organizing, but what ever it was took two of my closest friends away. What could he possibly be doing?

Judging by last night it wasn't anything normal. This only further stroked the embers of curiosity within me that had been placed there last night. I was frustrated beyond belief and I was racking my brain as to how it was possible for them to growl in such away. It was a truly animalistic sound they had made, once of raw intensity, and ultimately primal. I had a hunch that whatever reasoning behind the growl was the reason behind the growth spurts.

I knew it was physically unrealistic for Embry and Paul to go from lanky and lean to bulky and fitted. It was truly mind boggling and desperately needed to know what had happened to them.

I rubbed my temples and attempted to push the frustrating thoughts away. I had more questions than I did answers, and I was chasing a dead end, for no matter what I conjured was just as impossible as this entire situation.

I was joined by another person on the porch and I instantly knew it was Sam. His warmth was stifling and with only his bicep pressed against my upper arm, the heat seemed to spread through my entire arm and shoulder. I sighed, but remained quiet. I was at a loss as to what to say to this man next to me.

It felt like I was holding my breath, sitting here next to him; my body was coiled tightly, ready to spring at any moment to flee the scene, my muscles were tensed and I was gripping the arm rest so hard I thought the wood might splinter.

"Bella, I don't know what I have done…" Sam started in his deep voice, which made me shiver at its rough yet smooth quality. I was quick to crack the whip though and I snapped, "Listen, you are right you don't know, and you never will, so let us leave it at that."

I stood up and turned to face him, and I was shocked to see him looking away in anger, or hurt, I couldn't be sure. "You don't like me, and I don't like you, so let's just try to survive this." I walked away before I had the chance further examine the emotions that were warring on his magnificent features.

I walked up the stairs solemnly, and entered my bedroom. It was only when I was lying on my bed, listening to the comforting wash of rain against the windows that I realized the familiar sensations of guilt creeping in. This was extremely odd for me; I only apologized to two people: my mother, and my father. I was disgusted by the churning, twisting of my stomach, the thick feeling that I had done something wrong. This wasn't right, why was I feeling bad? I had been blatantly honest, then why was there a brick forming in my stomach? Why did I feel like I had done something terribly and irrevocably wrong?

I whimpered and tried to swallow the turmoil, pushing it down to join the toxic tar of guilt that was brewing in my stomach. I rolled over onto my side and began to breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. These calm, deep breaths were lost on my guilty conscious and growled, "What the fuck is wrong with me?"

I was interrupted by a knock on the door, and got up from my bed, proceeding to pull the door open once I had reached it. "Dinner is ready." My mother said, her face showing her concern for my deflated state. "Nothing mom, do not ask." I murmured and walked down stairs.

I sauntered to the kitchen and sat down on the wooded chair next to Sam. I hid behind my dark brown hair, using it to shield myself. I could feel that blazing heat that emanated from him, and now, after two occasions, it seemed to have simmered down into a soothing heat, rather than a raging fire, or at least to me. I wondered if it worked like a hot shower, you know you step in, and it feels like a scalding spray, and you're sure you are going to have welts on your back, but then you stand there and the once scalding burn is now a heated caress you enjoy. I pushed my juvenile musings to the back of my mind and peeked through the curtain of hair to my left.

Sam wasn't looking at me, thank god; this allowed me to fully appreciate his profile.

His jaw was hard, firmly in place because he was clenching his teeth together, and he proudly displayed a five o'clock shadow along his jaw and cheeks. His nose was straight and perfectly angled, pointing out, but not obnoxiously so. His full lips were full and jutting outward in an inadvertent pout. His hair was black, and cropped short and I wondered if he would just as nice with longer hair. His bronze skin seemed all the more beautiful in contrast to the pale white wall of our kitchen, and it looked quite soft.

I peeled my gaze away from Sam's striking looks, and focused on the sounds that my mother made as she fluttered about the kitchen preparing to bring dinner through to us. Finally my mother's foot steps sounded closer as she brought the lasagna through and set it on the table. She continued bestowing things onto the table: salad, salt, pepper, salad dressing and napkins.

Once she sat down we began to eat, or at least everyone around me did. I nibbled and picked at the food I normally would have been slobbering all over, and listened to the talk around me.

Charlie and Sam were discussing police work, and things on the reservation as they ate. I partially listened not really at present, the lights were on but nobody was home. It seemed as though the guilt had turned my stomach into a nauseous pit of jitters making the probably delicious dinner in front of me less than appetizing. I sighed and put my fork down, brining the glass of milk to my lips, taking a sip and returned the glass to its spot.

My mother, having noticed my lack of appetite, asked with worry marring her features, "Honey, are you alright?" I shook my head trying to answer her question and shake off the stare I felt at my temple, courtesy of Sam, and replied, "No, I am actually not feeling well, I think I will go lie down."

I didn't wait for her to reply, my napkin was already resting next to my plate, myself halfway out of the dining room when I was stopped by my father's gruff voice, "Bella, aren't you going to say good night to our guest?"

I stiffened entirely, and my guilt rose in my throat, choking me momentarily, before I spoke, "Good night Sam, see you on Monday." I was pleased my voice didn't display my quivering mass of guilt and confusion, but I didn't expect it to. For all he knew I meant what I said outside, and I never in all my life, had shown a sign of weakness to someone I did not want to see it.

I was in my room after a quick sprint up the stairs and down the hallway, and there I was, on my bed and confused as ever.

I didn't know how the hell Sam had managed it but her had gone and turned my entire moral compass ass backwards, and managed to resurrect my thought to be dead conscious. I groaned and pushed away it all.

I had managed to settle into a relaxed state by the time Sam left at nine o'clock, and was on my way to sleep, and managed to detect that guilt was still weighing heavily on my conscious, and the turmoil remained churning within me. I abandoned any hope to rid myself of it and fell into the abyss.

__

Sunday, thankfully, was scant of any visits from Sam, and I was able to breathe with out the suffocating sense of guilt on my lungs. My day was boring, I spent it reading and researching the risks of under age drinking and the consequences. I also drew up a list of questions I wanted to ask Sam in regards to the essay, and a separate list of things I just wanted to know in general—I was hoping to loop him into a game of Truth.

Throughout my research, the presence of my harsh words waited on the out skirts of my mind, waiting to be acknowledged. I was nowhere near ready to even recognize and name the cause of my emotional state and I was content to remain in my ignorant bubble.

However I was forced to acknowledge their present and pestering state on Sunday afternoon when I was outside taking a break. "He was very concerned about you, you know." My mother relinquished, from the door way that she leaned on. I nodded as if I already knew this and continued to rock the swing I sat in. "So?" I countered as if it were no big deal.

"Bella," My mom sighed, coming to sit down beside me. "Why is it that you hate him so?" I shrugged my shoulders, not willing to tell her my reasons, because they are childish as they can be. She nodded understandingly, and I briefly wondered if she really did understand.

My mom had grown up on one reservation all her life, the one in Arizona, and it was a simple place. The people were nice, with cookie cutter houses and white picket fences. My mom lived a simple life all her life, and things were easy for her. She was born here in La Push, but moved when she was a baby to Arizona and returned here with me and my dad. Her life story was the one you wanted to tell your children, for it truly was all rainbows and unicorns.

She met my father, and I quote 'it was love at first sight' for her, and apparently for dad. I snort inwardly at this, not really believing that this. They got married, and had me, and lived happily ever after.

My mom patted my on the leg and reentered the house, leaving me to my pestering thoughts. I silenced them all and enjoyed the cool breeze as it ran its nimble fingers through my hair.

Before I could say 'Forget the deal I made, send me to juvie!' Sam was knocking at my door on Monday night at eight o'clock, ready for out shift together.

Just as I noted on Saturday, Sam looked rather large in my door way and I nearly giggled at the disproportions. However he was just as strikingly beautiful—that is right I said beautiful. It was odd to call a man beautiful; it almost seemed like an insult, should a man be handsome, or dapper? However those words didn't seem to do Sammy-boy justice and I was content to keep my thoughts to myself.

Sam stood and I couldn't help but notice how tall he was. He had to me a good six foot five or, if not taller, and I felt quite small next to him. He practically towered over me, and I wanted to go put on my highest boots to add an extra inch or so to my height. But I knew that would be futile, for no matter I would still have to look up to talk to him.

Sam also held that aura of controlled danger and tamed animalism, it felt the same feeling brush my skin, a light caress alerting me of it. However Sam's seemed even more powerful, even more primal and I knew in this instant it didn't matter if I wore my tallest boots and mimicked his control, I would never ever meet his silent challenge.

"You take care of my baby girl; I want her back in one piece, Uley." My dad ordered, "Dad!" I reprimanded, embarrassed by his display. Charlie smiled and to add to my mortification pulled me into a tight embrace, one I hadn't experienced in a while. My cheek squished against his chest and I pulled away as soon as he loosened his hold on me.

My mom, god bless her, simply told us to be safe, and she would see us later on. Sighing in relief I stepped out of the house and onto the porch.

In one instant I wished my parents were back making it extremely awkward, because nothing was worse than what I was immersed in currently. The tension was thick between Sam and I, and I knew I would have to do something about it, because there was no way I was going to put up with this for the next two weeks.

Silent as I had ever been we approached the cruiser and much to my surprise Sam opened the door for me. I slid into the passenger side and laid my notebook down on my lap. Sam moved around the large and equally long hood of the cruiser, and entered the car.

We pulled away from my house and I was tempted to tuck and roll, and escape this accident waiting to happen.

We remained in silenced for five minutes, the buzz of his radio the only sounding swimming between us, and I was ready to punch something. "The silence is killing me. How the hell do you do it?" I huffed.

"You swore." Same evaded, and I rolled my eyes, replying with a cheeky smile, "Like a sailor. You better get used to it." Sam grunted and we lapsed back into that silence I detested.

"Okay," I sighed, getting ready to swallow my swollen pride. "About the other day, listen…" I never got a chance to finish for Sam interrupted with a tight and curt response:

"Don't bother."

I glared at him, and I knew he could sense it and then, I went spastic on his ass, "Listen you asshole, I am about to do something that I never do: apologize. So you listen, and you listen good, bud, because I only apologize to two people, my mom, and my dad, and you are about to be honored with the privilege of my wild card apology."

I took a deep breath, and smoothed my shirt out, before continuing. "I am sorry for being so harsh with you and well…yeah."

I waited for the relief to come, and I half expected that it wouldn't, but he came in a huge sweep the moment that Sam turned to look at me. His eyes were just as dark as the night at the diner, but now that I was closer, that seemed to be a dark honey, maple syrup-like color. I was drawn into the churning depths and wanted desperately to know the secrets that seemed to be there. They were hidden, yet not, you could see them, but couldn't know them.

I looked away, and took in a deep breath, marveling at how it was now so easy to breathe without guilt clogging my lungs. I was still appreciating the relief that seemed to reach through me and soothe my hysteric conscious, when Sam cracked this bright smile.

I stared awe struck.

Sam has always looked to be a man, a man who had seen too much, who had a hard life. All this I read from his face. His lips always seemed to be pursed in a constant firm line; his brows seemed to come together naturally in a comfortable scowl, a mannerism that peeked my interest. My curiosity was shameful; it was not healthy to be so interested in him.

However his soldier like face, one of impassive acceptance, had just been transformed into something far more beautiful. My heart stuttered, and I rationalized it with my mind, telling myself that I was just shocked. His stoic demeanor at dissolved into a boyish grin that suited him well, making him look younger and far more jovial.

I pulled my eyes away and searched for the nearest distraction. I gazed at the trees, the familiar greenery a less than pleasant sight, but that wasn't where my focus went, it went to the man emerging from the trees. He was topless, and had the chiseled abs much similar to the one's Embry and Paul, and he walked with the same control; that tamed essence.

He didn't seem to know that my hocked gaze was following him, and exited the tree line with an unaware abandon. I was fixed on him, wanting to know what he could have possibly doing in the woods at this time of night. I wasn't that paranoid freak that was afraid of the woods, but even I knew that walking around in the woods was not normal, and most of all not safe. Forks didn't have the safest forests, ideal during the day, but at night there were bears, coyotes, and a variety of wild life humans couldn't beat off with a stick.

So why on earth was he emerging from the woods at this time? Even though it was summer, dusk was beginning to settle, the sky was a pale orange, its last stand against the encroaching darkness. I scowled in confusion and looked away to see Sam glaring at the man who was now walking along the road.

It looked as though he wanted to stop and reprimand him but Sam passed by, a glare his only communication to the stranger. "Who was that?" I demanded. "Jared." Sam growled, his words minced and clipped. I scowled but let it go.

With the same certainty from the night before, I knew that this man, whomever he was, was under the same spell Embry and Paul were enrapt by. Whatever was wrong with him was wrong with Paul and Embry, and these little puppet's strings all seemed to lead to Sam, the perfect master.

A crackling sound from the radio filled the car and I briefly flinched at its volume and brash sound. With a quick reply from the Sam, the sirens turned on and he glanced at me, "You ready?"

"Yes." _No._

**A/N: This chapter was shorter than my last, but I hope you liked it all the same. I would like to say thank you to you guys for the amazing reviews and incredible response. I cannot express it, but please, if you want a quick update, you have to review. **

**Play list:**

**Deep in the valley—Sarah Harmer**

**My Blue Manhattan—Ryan Adams**

**Seventeen—Kings of Leon**

**Pistol of Fire—Kings of Leon**

**Anyway thanks for the reviews on the last chapter and I really hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you did let me know. Thank again!**

**Please review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I am so thrilled to be honored with your awesome feed back. The majority of you have one request: a chapter from Sam's point of view. Now, I know you all are just dying to know what is going on inside his gorgeous head, and I would love to toss you guys a bone and push one out, but sadly I do not think I will be doing one anytime soon. I have my reasons, but one of the greatest ones is that fact that I feel it would take away from the story entirely, and well I cannot being myself to bash my own story. **

**However, I have an alternative solution, I will be doing out takes for this story once I further develop it. Therefore you all can P.M me what you want to see happen. Hey, if you are lucky, and if I get enough reviews, I may just consider doing this story from Sam's perspective somewhere down the line. **

**Anyway I hope you read and review, and most of all I hope you really do enjoy this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, places, etc. belong to S.M. –No copy right infringement intended. **

**With that I leave you all to read—enjoy!**

**Boarders: Late nights and stubborn mules**

You know when you're driving along and all of a sudden you here those wailing sirens, and you know their coming closer, your pounding ears are telling you so, but you can't seemed to see the cop car's approach? But then all of a sudden it is clear and the flashing red and blue lights are in your review mirror, quickly you note this and scramble out of the way, and just like that, with no obstructions the cop car speeds away, rushing forward to meet its desired destination, leaving you behind.

I had always wanted to know what it felt like to _be_ in the car, to watch people part and get out of your way, no questions asked. You would think, because I am a cop's daughter, that I would know how this feels, but no, I don't. My dad, Charlie, never ever took me out for a ride, claiming it was too dangerous. Even when I was sixteen and I asked if we could just turn the sirens on and zip through town, my dad, back then, fixed me with a glare and a warning, _'Bella, we never fake an accident, nor do we mock an emergency'_.

So you can imagine how excited I was to be in the seat, finally, and watch people part before me like the Red Sea.

We sped off in the direction of our emergency, and curious, I yelled over the wailing sirens, "Where are we going?"

Sam looked to me briefly and yelled back, "The Clearwater's, there has been a noise complaint, apparently a party is taking place."

I nodded, and tried not to wear my distaste for Leah Clearwater on my face. Leah and I to say the least did not get along well. Sighing I looked out the window, and couldn't help but think that if I wasn't stuck here, _I_ would be at that party. _I_ would be the one running, trying to escape. I wouldn't be here either.

I wouldn't be in this small confined space, with a man I so beautifully hated, yet was dying to know. I would not be riding in a car where the tension was riding high, putting pressure on my lungs, suffocating me. Nor would I be thinking up ways to talk myself out of this situation, or envisioning ways to get out of this car in one piece.

We rushed through La Push, our speed frighteningly fast, searching for the Clearwater's. The trees flew by, all one green fence keeping us on track, and we saw no one on the roads. We drove through unnoticed and I couldn't help but wonder where everyone was. Instantly I got my answer, just ahead on the road was a house I recognized to be the Clearwater's.

The house seemed to rattle with the music, shuddering with each angry and decisive thump. The small structure was a light with energy, and excessive decorations, casting light into the dark that seemed to stretch its oily fingers out to embrace it. I looked on and noticed people seemed to be spilling out of the house, crowding the porch, and littering the lawn.

We saddled up to the curb and I was half way out of the car when I felt Sam's large palm ensnare my delicate wrist. "What?" I snapped. He didn't reply but simply yanked me back in, allowing me to fall where I may. This caused me to flop painfully into the uncomfortable seat of the car and I grumbled unhappily, "Good job, dick-wad." Sam rolled his brown confederate eyes and ordered in a firm voice, "Stay in the car."

"What?" I asked angrily, stepping out of the car just as he had moments before. "Bella, get in the car." Sam growled, coupling his loaded threat with a murderous glare. "What, and observe from the car? What is the point of this entire thing, if I am to watch with no idea as to what is happening?"

Sam glared, and in a voice that implied he was done being nice, "I said, get in the car. You'll only be in the way." I gave a cry of indignation but sat in the car anyway, slamming the door closed as his hulking form slipped through the crowd like a sharpened knife.

"You'll only be in the way…" I imitated Sam in a deep voice that was a poor rendition of his low and soothing baritone accent. I looked ahead trying not to think of all the fun the people not too far from me were having.

A guy sloshed his drink, stumbling towards the keg, as his friend laughed and pointed. It could have been me with Jake and Embry, but it wasn't, instead I was stuck, here, exiled to stalking.

My fingers twitched, positively itching to reach for the door, and just push it open. Maybe I would just stand outside of the door? Keep watch, maybe? I closed my hands into tight fists, folding my gingers and tucking them in, trying to stop my self from doing it. I began to recite quotes in my head as a distraction, anything to stop my self from getting out and abandoning Sam's orders.

"_Truth is stranger than fiction."—Mark Twain._

"_All that glitters is not gold."—Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice. _

"_Be the change you want to see happen in the world."—Mahatma Gandhi_

"_Always acknowledge a fault. This will throw those in a authority off their guard and give you an opportunity to commit more."—Mark Twain._

"_A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool."—William Shakespeare. _

I was brought to attention by someone thumping against the car and I immediately hopped out and yelled, "Hey! Watch it, idiot!" The young boy, who I believed to be in grade in grade nine, scampered away, and I smiled smugly, watching his departure.

With a dawning horror I realized I was outside, and now the music seemed louder, more angry, far more fearsome, and doubly tempting. My hand instinctively reached for the metal handle, ready to slip back into the car, but I shook my head. What had happened? Had I been in this situation before I would have gladly broke Sam's loaded order and recklessly joined my peers, but now, I hesitate? Now, I am cowardly inching away from a party? I growled and hastily removed my hand away, as if I were hurting my self with the simple embrace.

I walked away from the car, with a loud, "Fuck it." I stomped across the lawn, mad that Sam Uley had managed to fix my moral compass. I growled at a nearby girl, and she nestled further into her boyfriend's arms, whilst I was already far from them and had my eyes on one thing: the keg.

I was halfway there when a shrill voice called out, "What the hell do you think you are doing here?" I stiffened at the sound of Leah, and wordlessly turned to face her. Leah's dark hair was pulled back into a perky pony tail, wisps falling forth to frame her tall cheek bones, her mouth, which was normally in a constant pout, was set into a firm line in response to my presence.

I didn't reply, and everyone knew it. The hold party seemed to have stopped, the crowds of people stood still, ready to be our audience, even the music seemed to be at a lower volume, opposite to its angry beats prior. I shrugged, aloofly turning around to walk away.

I had two steps beneath me when Leah pulled me back by my shoulder, her rough and reckless jerk causing me stumble in my turn. I was once again facing her, and I stared, not wanting to do this, not here, not now. I would hate to beat her skinny ass like I had just over a year ago, but this time our audience was greater. This time, our audience was hungry for a fight, for gossip, and Leah was ready to feed her court.

"Move your fucking hand, Leah." I said in a cold voice. My voice was a warning, and she knew it. She knew from experience that this would not end well if she did not take her chance and go, she would suffer, she would be the one to walk away humiliated, not me.

Ignorant as she was arrogant Leah did not heed my warning, but tossed it aside as she tightened her grip on my shoulder. I turned my body roughly, jostling her grip, virtually freeing myself from her angry embrace. I took a step back, trying to yet again walk away.

This time instead of perusing the keg, I made my way for the car, or at least that I was what I had planned on. I was yet again stopped by who I could only assume to be Leah, as she caught my wrist I was already turning, my comment out of lips and into the thirsty ears of our audience, "Leah, back the fuck up, and let it go, I am leaving right now," I then dropped my voice to a whisper, leaning in so only she could her my threatening syllables, "You don't need to do this again, trust me you don't. Only a few select people saw what happened last year, I don't think you want all your popular friends to see you get your ass handed to you."

Without her consent I wrenched myself free from her feeble hold, and was about to walk away, briefly wondering where Sam was, and why he hadn't stopped the party, when I someone firmly planted their hands on my back, and roughly pushed me. This less than kind action caused me to stumble into my next step, and I growled when I gained my proper balance yet again.

I whipped around to a smug Leah, and said, "You really want to do this, don't you?" She wordlessly shoved me again, and the crowd made gasps, and sounds a mock astonishment. They weren't surprised, I knew they weren't. This is what they wanted, this is what they needed, and I had learned this long before tonight. The crowd seemed to inch closer and settle, as if they were making themselves comfortable, ready and waiting for my next move.

I shook my head, and warned, "Leah, don't do this." She scoffed, and shoved me again. Guilt clogging my stomach, and soaking my conscience, I shoved back this time. She tripped over herself and landed on her back, and I stood over her, and conceded, "Let it go. If you get back up they will expect you to fight and we both know you really don't want to do that."

I strode away, lengthening my strides, trying to escape before Leah made an even bigger fool of herself. It was odd, Leah was popular, and I often looked upon her with pity. Greedy mouths suckled at her presence, begging for more, constantly looking to her, demanding of her something, or someone, she did this constantly for them, for the 'friends' she surrounded herself with. Someone always had the question, 'What have you done for me lately?' for Leah, and she always did have something else for them, and she was doing this tonight, she was going to fight me, or she was.

I had reached the fringes of the circle, already pushing through two boys my age, when Leah stated, "I saw you come here with him. I bet you're sleeping with him too. Do you let Jake and Embry join, you whore?" I froze. Her words were untrue as they could come, and she was spewing forth piles of shit, but it was too late, by the time word got around I would be known as just that, a whore.

My hackles rose, and I spun around, my anger seeming to heighten my senses. I angrily walked back to Leah who was laughing, and smirking along her audience, her subjects. My anger bubbled and boiled beneath my skin, running hotly through my veins, and with each thump of my heart my anger grew, and I spat out once I reached Leah, "What the fuck did you just say to me?"

Leah, noting the weight of my anger and its depths, smartly shrunk back and gulped. I laughed a mirthless chuckle and gripped her frilly shirt by its dainty collar and roughly jerked her, while spitting out, "What did you say, Leah?"

Leah shook her head, and tried to escape, prying at my firm hold, attempting to peel back my fingers. I shook my head in disgust, and threw her away from me. She stumbled back, and this time she didn't fall, but instead caught her footing and stood tall. "C'mon," I challenged, "Say it, Leah!" I punctuated my words with rough and angry shoves, and she clamped her mouth closed, shaking her head back and forth, and looking to the crowd for help.

However, her friends, her subjects, watched with hungry eyes, glittering with greed and satisfaction. When would she realize that it was entirely too easy to loose their attention than keep it? I pushed my sleeves up, and just as I was about to let her go, and leave us both unscathed, she spoke up.

"I said, you are a whore. And everybody knows it." Her voice trembled, as did her chin, and for a moment her eyes glistened. Poor Leah, she was scared shitless by me, and yet she stood tall, and let her peers nail her down. She was going to be martyr, and walk willingly into the lion's den, no consideration.

My body seemed to grow with my rage, and the only angry beat I could hear now, was the thumping whoosh sound my blood made as my heart pumped it. "_I'm_ the whore?" I yelled, incredulously, "This accusation coming from the bitch that has been fucking Matthew Collins for the past year?"

Leah took a step back as if I had physically dealt her a blow, and she sputtered briefly, clearly shocked at the depth of my spectrum of knowledge. I was taking a step backwards, bringing her into the circle more, and centering it so that if we did combat she wouldn't hurt anyone else.

"Take it back! You're lying!" Leah screeched, her eyes darting frantically about observing as boys appraised her, and girls giggled and whispered. Moments before her people had been rallying together, waiting on her, looking to her, but now, now they openly mocked her and saw her for her own title: a fuck buddy. I smirked and bellowed, "Too late princess! It's true!"

Leah shrieked angrily, and stomped her foot, and it took everything not to join our audience in laughing at her. "I said, take it back." Leah's voice had taken on a new act of desperation, as it wavered and faltered, her eyes glistening like they had moments before. It was too late, and she was embarrassing herself further, pleading with me to eat my words, but I shook my head and murmured so she could here. "It's done Leah, it's done."

She shook her head indignantly and yelled, "It is not over until you take it back!" Leah walked forward, meeting me in the center, and stood a foot away. I stood tall, and taunted, "What if I don't? You and I both know I am right, that I am not lying. So, Leah, what are you going to do? Are you going to be a good little girl and walk away, and sulk?"

She gave a cry of protest at my words, closed her hands into tiny fists, and spoke in a menacing voice, "_Take it back_."

I only shook my head, and briefly heard the crowd chanting, _fight, fight, fight. _I arranged my features into a look of disgust. It was frightening how they encouraged us, how they relished in the chaos that they were about to spread. I wondered if they even cared that this was _real_, that Leah _really_ was sleeping with Matt, and that we were indeed about to engage in a fight. They didn't care, as long as they had something to whisper about behind closed doors, or text about, or someone to pity, and I knew with astonishing certainty that this would be big news, and wouldn't be forgotten, and would probably be brought up incessantly throughout the next couple of months.

Before I could even register it, I had already opened my mouth and emitted a short and clipped, "No."

Leah's fist connected with my face before I even noted she had raised it, and I felt the sickening feeling settle in my stomach as I felt her tiny blow knock up against my chin. My head arched back, absorbing the hit, and with my neck craned at a painfully awkward angle, I noted that Leah had a good punch.

The crowd gasped, and surged forward, enclosing us into a tighter cage. I felt the blood trickle from my cracked, split lip, and into my mouth, mixing with my saliva into a coppery tasting liquid that I quickly spat out.

I looked to Leah who was cradling her damaged hand in her other, wincing periodically as she tried to close, and flex it. I chuckled humorlessly and glowered, "Nice punch, not too bad, you're not as weak as I suspected, but I, _I_ can do better."

With that, I clenched my hand into a fist, not tucking my thumb into my fingers, and pulled it back, letting it fly.

___

"Ouch," I hissed, air rattling through my teeth and filling my mouth. "Shut up." Sam growled as he cleaned out my busted lip. I sighed, and fidgeted on the hood of the cruiser, thinking back to moments before when Sam pulled me off Leah.

"Let me go!" I had growled, protesting, trying to wriggle away from Sam's firm grip on my waist. I was still screeching like a deranged cat as Sam hauled me away, dispatching all teenagers from the Clearwater's as he did so.

He had shoved me into the cruiser, a harsh and angered look upon his handsome looks, while he entered the car, settling into the seat to my left. We drove for a while, and I squirmed in the tense silence. It seemed to stretch between us, poised and taught as an elastic band that was loosing its grip.

"Why didn't you listen?" Sam barked, an edge entering his voice as he scolded. I had remained quiet, not know how to answer such a question, plus I was pretty sure it was rhetorical.

I was right, it was rhetorical, and Sam continued, "I specifically told you not to get out of the car. All you had to do was stay. But no, you got out, and deliberately disobeyed. Don't you ever listen? Or are you just that stupid? You know what, I bet it is the latter, you are just stupid."

I was shocked into silence, and tried not to feel the cut as pain seeped from the open slash he had caused. I had prodded my lip, hissing in pain as I felt the burning sting, but I had relished in it, I had wanted to distract myself. I had remained in my silence, and absorbed all his abuse, and obviously Sam had expected a smart retort, but he received none, I had just looked blankly out the window.

Sam had sobered, and simpered, "Bella, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. You're not dumb." I had remained looking out the window, and had coldly replied, "You meant it, or you wouldn't have said it, right?" I had turned my gaze on him, and sadly spoke, "After all, I am just a dumb, stupid, hell raiser."

Sam had sputtered, shocked at how I had twisted his words around into a smartly crafted weapon. The silence had ensued from then on and brought us to where we were now, pulled off on the side of the road, me sitting on the hood of the cruiser, with Sam standing between my open legs.

My hissed gasp and muttered 'ouch' was the only thing I had said to him prior to him insulting me, and as much as I wanted to brush of his hurtful and assuming words, I couldn't. I didn't know why it mattered to me what he thought of me, or what he saw when he looked at me, and I don't mean the aesthetically pleasing features, I mean what does he see me as. Does he really think of me as nothing more than a stupid, typically restless teenager? I should hope not, because I found that I didn't want to be put under that label. What was even more unnerving than his opinion was that fact that I _was_ fussing over his opinion.

All my life I had never really focused on what people thought of me, sure I had felt somewhat hurt when people thought the worst of me, but never had it ever reached in and tugged at my heart strings. Yet here, with Sam, I was wishing I was more than some teenager he was stuck lugging around, and even more I so, I wished that I could somehow change his uninformed conclusions. It rattled me to the core that wanted to be more for him, _to_ him. I didn't want to be looked upon as some naïve, hell bent kid, I wanted to be seen as an equal, and someone he wasn't _disappointed_ in. Sam hadn't said it, yet, but I knew it was just on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be set free to float up to my ears, and settle into my brain.

I sighed and looked at anything but his penetrating orbs, brown as they were curious. Instead, I looked over his hulking shoulders, and into the night, into the darkness.

The trees swayed in the wind, whistling the breeze's tune, humming as it brushed its friendly fingers through its flexible branches. The tall vegetation seemed to sway together in its choreographed dance, leaning right and left, reaching out to move with the fare weather friend of theirs that was the rushing air.

My eyes were brought back to Sam's when he softly rubbed his warm thumb over my tender lower lip. The heat I thought I had grown accustomed to, seemed to be burning white hot against my soft flesh, and my breath hitched somewhere in my throat at his horrifyingly loving touch.

"Bella," Sam sighed, "You're not stupid. I was just mad, you could never be stupid, and by the way, you are far too smart to be even considered less than intelligent." I frowned slightly, and Sam's other hand came up to smooth my crumpled features, but rather than pulling away—like I thought he would—Sam let his hand fall to cup my cheek, , and brush his thumb over my cheek bone. I nodded deftly, trying not to focus on that weird tingly feeling I got with each pass of his thumb.

His face was close to mine, and if I craned my neck, I could comfortably rest my forehead against his, but I remained still, where I was, and marveled at the sound of Sam's husky voice, "Am I forgiven?"

I wanted to ask why it mattered, why did my forgiveness mean so much to him, why was it so key to him, but I just settled on a hoarse syllable, "Yes."

I was absolutely positive that Sam was about to kiss me when the radio erupted with a loud crackling sound. Sam sprung into action, and gave one last swipe over my split lower lip with some sort of disinfectant, before hurriedly putting every thing he had used to clean me up back into the first aid kit, not meeting my eyes then entire time.

I slipped off the hood, and planted myself firmly on the ground, trying not to envision what would of happen had we not been interrupted. I could almost feel his lips on mine, rough but smooth, sure but cautious, guiding yet following. However I was now in the car, speeding off to our next emergency, and this time, I didn't even bother asking.

___

We coasted to a halt in front of an older looking house, which appeared as though no one had even considered mowing the lawn in years. Tall grass stood proudly, some of it dying and wilting, while other strands stood young and fresh leaning lazily toward an invisible object. The bushes on either side of the person's lawn, were large and just as untamed as the lawn, they were wide as they were tall, which was quite large if you were to ask me.

The walkway was skewed from my vision, or rather the world, for the tall bushy grass enclosed it, dominating its domain. I looked toward the house that looked to match its surrounding company. It was dirty, with a tall vine like plant clinging to it desperately, covering the shutter's that looked to be a pale blue, but I couldn't be sure.

Sam left me with a pointed glare, and just as he was a foot up the walk way I hopped out, and loudly whispered, "What's going on? Where are you going?" Sam glared and looked back to me, with a briefly annoyed expression on his face, and I wondered if he ever regretted bringing me along. "There has been a break in, I am going to check it out, and I will be back, stay in the car." He stressed his last four words and complying I sat myself back in the car, and only now noticed the door of this unkempt house was slightly ajar.

I watched as Sam strode up the walk way, stealthily slipping into the house, gun poised in front of him. My heart lurched slightly when Sam disappeared from my sight, and I placed my hand over where it lay, as if my warm palm would calm its frantic beating. I remained in the car, silently watching with a frown, wanting Sam to come out soon.

Finally my heart came to a stuttering halt when I saw him dragging the suspect out, or the burglar I should say. However I failed to notice the man he was hauling out all together, but was instead drawn to the way his muscled flexed in attempt to wrangle his captive in.

I looked ahead to the back of the car in front of me when I heard the car door open and the man being thrown in. I looked to the left, and saw Sam comforting the owners, which was an older woman, who was in her forty's maybe, her hand protectively gripping her son's shoulder.

This left me alone with my very first convict, and I tried to ignore the feeling that I was being watched. I felt the person's gaze land at the back of my skull, my hairs stood up on end in response, and a parade of little invisible spiders seemed to march over the planes of my body.

I straightened my posture, and comforted myself with the thought that there was a cage between myself and the leering man, but it was lost on me. I felt him undressing me with his eyes, his slimy gaze seeming to reach out and slither over my skin. I shuddered slightly and steeled my back bone even further, if that were possible.

Thankfully Sam entered the car at this point, and threw a pointed glare in the direction of our cargo, and made his way for the station, but even with Sam here with me, I still felt the man's unnerving glances.

"You okay?" Sam murmured, briefly glancing from the review mirror and then back to me. I nodded, not meeting his gaze, and watched as the station grew before us. We pulled up to where I had been nights before, and Sam got out to pull his catch out of the back seat.

Sam handed the positively disgusting man over to some other men, and he walked back over to the car, opening the door before bending down slightly to say, "I am going to just grab something from the station, I'll be right back, okay?"

I nodded and replied, "Sure, see you in a bit." Sam walked away then, closing the door, leaving me to my silence. I looked around, searching for something entertaining. "God, this is boring…" I mumbled, and impulsively reached forward to pull open the glove box.

It opened up gaping at me, and reached in taking out the first thing I saw, a black sketchpad, or what I thought to be a sketchpad. I opened it up, flipping through the pages, stopping every now and then to glance at the designs I could only assume Sam to have drawn. They were mostly of cars and car parts, and it appeared as though he had a list, as if he were rebuilding a car himself, and I smiled.

It appeared as though there was more to Sam Uley than I thought, and maybe, just maybe there was more than the confederate soldier he designed himself to be. I quickly shoved the black book back into its sanctioned area, snapping the glove box closed, when I heard Sam's loud foot falls approaching me.

He slipped into the car, a small smile playing on his lips, and a brown paper bag held loosely in his hand. He proceeded to toss the paper bag onto my lap, and I stared at it dumbly before peeking inside cautiously.

There, lying comfortably in the brown sac, were four donuts. I chuckled at the sight, thinking back to my earlier conversation with my mother about cops and their affiliation with donuts.

"What's so funny?" Sam asked, reaching towards me, or more importantly the brown paper bag, stuffing his hand in, and plucking a chocolate glazed donut out if it before stuffing it into his mouth.

"Nothing, this is just so typical," At this Sam frowned and I proceeded explain, "It's just that you're a cop, and well, you went into the station to get donuts, so you have just cemented the stereotype that all cops love, no, are _addicted_ to donuts."

Sam's forehead crumpled into a scowl, and he grumbled in defense, "I never expected you to believe stereotypes." I smiled smugly at his pouting and remarked, "I am full of surprises, and there is more to me than meets the eye. For all you know I secretly where pink under each outfit."

Sam raised his eyebrows disbelievingly and appeared to be examining my outfit, which consisted of dark wash skinny jeans, my combat boots, and a plaid shirt. "Somehow, I find that hard to believe." Sam said, pulling out of the station.

"That's because it isn't true." I supplied taking a sprinkled donut from the bag, and taking a large bite. "Hah, so I was right." Sam said triumphantly, and I rolled my eyes, whilst clarifying, "That wasn't the point. I am just pointing out that you never know about some people. For instance, did you know that Leah is sleeping with Matt Collins?"

Sam looked astounded, and incredulously said, "Really?" I smirked, licking excess glaze and sprinkles from my hand and finger tips, nodding before appeasing. "Oh, yes. You see what I mean? Leah prances around in pink frilly shirts and little skirts, and we all see her as this picture of innocence when really she has been screwing around for the past year now, I believe. But like I said, you never know."

Sam absorbed this information with shocked eyes, driving until pulling to a stop under a canopy of trees. I frowned, and spoke, "What's wrong? Why are we stopping?" Sam smiled slightly and leaned back, plucking another donut from the bag before replying, "Taking a break, if we get called we will go, no sense cruising around for no reason."

I nodded and leaned back just as he was, before I asked, "What's your favorite color?" Sam looked at me as if I had asked him to take a bite from my arm, rather than a simple mundane question, and he questioned, "Why do you want to know?"

I groaned, resurrecting my night of arrest when he answered every question with another question, but rather than making a sassy remark, I answered, "Well, we well be spending the next two weeks together," I looked at him pointedly, "We might as well do something productive, like learning about each other."

Sam nodded, taking in and examining my logic before he supplied, "Royal blue." I nodded, storing this information in the back of my head. "Yours?" He returned, looking to me.

"Brown." I said without thinking, looking away from his _very_ brown eyes quickly. "How about your favorite word?" I offered, trying to make my trivial questions more appealing.

"Lethargic." Sam replied, fishing out the last donut from the bag, while I crumple it up and asked the inevitable question, "Why?"

"Not only is it fun to say," Sam said, "But it is truly just a supplement for the word lazy, and I love being lazy." He said this as if being lazy were like riding a bike, or running, which seemed odd in my eyes, but I accepted his logic none the less. "What is your favorite word?" Sam repeated, echoing my question, to which I smartly, and albeit proudly replied, "Fuck."

Sam chortled, and I scolded, "Don't sound so surprised." I looked at him then, and was once again reminded how beautiful he truly was. It was entertaining to watch Sam's serious melt away, and slip into something far more appropriate and comfortable for his age. I knew him to be nineteen, and we had often seen each other around school when he was still attending the La Push high school.

"Not surprised," Sam explained, "Just pleasantly expected."

Silence fell upon us quickly, its tall shadow cloaking Sam and I in its darkness that seemed to rendering both of us mute. I stared back at him, my eyes trying to peer into to his, trying to find those secrets, trying to figure them out, trying to figure him out.

The radio crackled, sputtered, and I looked away, listening to Sam's reply, and once again we were off, on to the next thing.

___

It wasn't until we were in Sue's diner, sitting on the cracked leather seats, removing my hand from the sticky table that I realized just how easy it was to be around Sam. Although the evening was rather rough, I found that afterward he was easy to be around, and the conversation was comfortable and often abundant.

Albeit it was awkward at times, and I often experienced bouts of annoyance, but they were not overwhelmingly so like I thought they would be. In fact, there was this sense of simplicity with Sam, as if it was like riding a bike. I know how cliché that is but it's true, I had no problem talking to him, and he kept me guessing with his deceptive pretender eyes.

I briefly wondered if this is how it happened to Paul and Embry, were they easily reeled in just as I was. Or was there a struggle? I didn't know. All I knew was that I had enjoyed my evening, or my night, I should say.

I was worried, were my hands already tied down? Was string securely wrapped around my wrists, allowing Sam to lead me around like a good little girl?

I looked out the window to my right, the pane of the window glared back due to the neon sign that sat above my head, and hoped I was wrong, because if I hated anything, I hated being manipulated. I sighed and looked down at menu, and tried not to think about my current queries.

With a determination I didn't know I had, I vowed that I would not let myself fall under his spell, no matter what, I would remain resilient, I would not join his ranks.

**A/N: All right! Another chapter finished! I really do appreciate all the reviews and, reviewers, all of you, thanks so much. I really do appreciate it; you all make it worth while continuing this story. So I thank you all and I am sorry if I don't always reply, but I really do try. **

**The updates might be slowing down considerably due to the fact that I am back in school, and well my academics are slightly distracting. Anyway I hope you all can understand and please, please do not hesitate to review. **

**Play list:**

**Combat baby—Metric**

**Float on—Modest Mouse**

**Anthem for a seventeen year-old-girl—Broken Social Scene**

**Oh the boss is coming—The Arkells**

**I hope you all enjoyed and if you did please let me know!**

**Thanks for all the support!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Okay, first off, my apologies for the rather slow update—blame my teachers. I have been doing so much work, so that puts my stories to the back burner. So anyway, this is another chapter, it is not as epic as others due to the fact that in our story it is Tuesday, which means Sam is not working. However he will have some appearances just not in epic proportions in this chapter.**

**Anyway, read, review (please), and above all: enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: S.M owns all characters, settings, etc. no copyright infringement intended—I own nothing at all.**

**Boarders: Choose a side, or just stay in the middle like me, and Switzeland**

The funny thing about almost-kisses, this discovery I have observed in the past night, is that they seem to hide but are extremely obvious. They are deceiving, not only in what they are but what they do. They act as pretenders, you know—they never really happen, ergo their name, but they do announce themselves. I could hear my almost-kiss in its rather annoying voice reminding me of what didn't happen. Reminding me of how it will probably never happen again.

Apparently I am not the only almost-kiss-whisperer between Sam and me. I found that out rather quickly, and didn't really identify with it until I sat across from Sam in the diner at five A.M. He had said a pathetic amount of words since he had almost ended up kissing me; in fact the number was so small and insignificant that I could count the number on my hand. Plus, he used them all in one sentence: _"This good?" He said jutting his chin in the direction of the diner._

You see, I thought the whole fiasco was long forgotten when Sam brought out donuts, one would think so? But no, of course, this would just make _far_ too much sense for to be even considered. It as if the entire mood had deflated in that one instant and all of sudden we were weighed down by the weight of the elephant in our car and all of sudden nothing seemed appropriate to say.

Sure, periodically we would speak, but the conversations were always short-lived. The shared comments always felt forced and awkward as the slithered off my tongue. Plus, what the hell could I say to him, without sounding like an idiot?

Even more so, why did I care? It shouldn't matter to me that he felt uncomfortable, let him be that way, he brought this all on himself. However, that small thought didn't manage to comfort me; rather it seemed to make it worse.

I felt like ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag, and I couldn't afford to tell myself that nothing was wrong, that I wasn't slightly concerned as to what had happened. You see, the thing is, you cannot by any means lie to yourself. It is nearly impossible to disguise the pestering musings once the thoughts make an appearance and it is even more difficult reprimand yourself, halting the all too true considerations before they enter your mind so you may ponder over them. I couldn't truthfully say that I would have enjoyed the kiss.

I mean, it was Sam, and well, it was Sam. Sam the guy who stole my two best friends, the guy who watched over my every move. Sam the guy who made my heart skip a beat, made my stomach churn uneasily just by being there, Sam who made my normally dry palms break into a cold and clammy sweat. Sam, the guy who made me crumble with one look, ripping me wide open, making me feel as though he knew all of my secrets without me even telling him, and that scared me. Something was happening, courtesy of Sam, and I wasn't sure if it was a good thing.

However I could ignore them, and pretend, and that was exactly what I would do. I could live with a frantic heart beat, Sam would never know, and I could live with goose-bumps every time he accidently touched me. I could live with that, but the real question was: for how long?

I shook my head as if this simple movement would jostle and scatter my thoughts so they no longer existed, it seemed to work, and I focused on the menu that had been handed to me. I once again reviewed the lists of meals, and tried to look intrigued, or see the offerings with new eyes. It didn't work, but I still did it, trying to avoid the invisible parade of spiders that crawled over my skin every time Sam was looking at me.

I sighed, and briefly glanced up, only to see his unreadable eyes gazing back, "What?" I snapped, carelessly letting my menu flop down onto the table. "Nothing." Sam murmured, returning his gaze to the menu, much to my approval, I did the same, grumbling under my breath.

I could have screamed at how awkward this was, and it was doing a number on me. My skin seemed to itch with the uncomfortably of this entire situation, as if it were a sweater made of fiberglass that I had been forced to wear, and I was simply waiting for the other shoe to drop. I could almost taste that something big was going to happen, like this impending force that was unavoidable.

It was this low hum, in the background, a warning sound, and I didn't know how to heed it. I had this toil in my stomach, telling me that something was going to happen, and I was racking my brains, trying to figure out how to take control, because I knew this was somehow out of my hands. Sighing, I looked around the diner.

My gaze ghosted past multiple other patrons, each of them regulars—like myself, all with a routine, just like mine. My gaze was ensnared by that of an angry mother, named to be Sue Clearwater; it appeared as though Leah had called her. I nearly smirked, but caught myself in the act, hissing when my split lip complained with a stinging sensation.

"It appears as though I am not well received here," I remarked, my gaze briefly flickering upwards to Sue who was now smiling at a young girl who appeared to be no older than seven, sitting next to her father, and I briefly wondered if she had the authority to ban me. I shook my head knowing she didn't, she hadn't the last time I punched Leah, so I guess I was in the clear.

"What makes you say that?" Sam queried sarcastically, never taking his eyes from the menu. I rolled my eyes, why couldn't he act normal? I wanted to tell him to grow a pair, and actually face me, but I had this growing suspicion that my comment would only make this situation far worse. So, to save myself from my mouth, I clamped it shut and replaced my prior thoughts with a new comment.

"Well, you know this being my second time beating the shit out of Leah; I highly doubt Sue is happy to see me."

Sam snorted, before looking up to ask, "Why did you do it anyway?" I assumed he was referring to me not handling Leah properly, but in my eyes—and anyone who was sane—knew she was asking for it. Sighing, wondering if he was just trying to make conversation or he was that obtuse, I answered, "Well she asked for it, she threw the first punch, which means I acted in self defense."

"You knew what she was doing, and _you_ allowed her to punch you, in fact you encouraged it." Sam accused, and my hackles rose instantly, rushing into battle, and before I could stop myself, I opened my mouth, and let the anger rear its ugly head.

"Listen fuck-face, I don't need your advice, or your judgmental attitude, nor do I need to explain myself to _you_, a nine-teen year old cop that probably irons his underwear because anything less than that would be scandalous, 'cause you are so anal-fucking-retentive it is not even funny."

Thank Christ for waitresses and their impeccable timing, because ours, a girl from the reservation, with black hair, and big eyes, who was ogling Sam as if he was something she could order off the menu, stood in front of the table pen poised and ready to write. I sneered in disgust, but she didn't notice, obviously to her Sam was a God, and it was apparently rude to acknowledge anyone else present. So, being the impolite customer that I was, I glanced down at her name tag, and the read _Emily_ in a cute print, and I interjected, "_Emily_, I would like the breakfast platter, please, with chocolate milk."

Sam unphased by my less than nice words, rumbled out in his deep baritone voice, "The same for me please." His voice was smooth and rough, and it fluttered across my skin, and a small shiver ran up my spine, I suppressed it and jerkily folded my menu up.

Emily, in a small and timid voice asked, "White or brown?" She was referring to the bread, and in a clipped and minced tone, I appeased, "White, please and thank you." Sam did the same, and Emily scurried away, our menus tucked under her arm, and I felt the tiny army of spiders crawling up my back, and I looked up to see Sam tossing a disproving look my way.

"What?" I asked indignantly, and hoped that he wasn't going to address my prior outburst. Sam spoke, with a pointed glare, "You didn't have to be so brash with her, and she couldn't have been older than fifteen." I rolled my eyes, and replied, "Oh, c'mon, where has this come from? Why am I the bad guy? She was too busy staring at you to even take an order, so excuse me for ordering, had I not we would have been here all day."

Sam smirked, and said in a smug voice, said, "Are you jealous?" Instantly all colour drained my face, and a brick formed in my stomach, and I sputtered rather quickly, "What!? Me, jealous?" I spat. "Over _you_?" Sam just looked at me as if I had just told him that I had won the lottery an I was going to split it with him, he still held that disgustingly delicious smirk, and it took all I had in me not to slap him.

However his lips remained twisted and my mind was doing cartwheels, mulling over this new information. Much to my great horror, I found myself asking, was I really jealous? Was that the reason I was so rude? Or was it because I was hungry? I shook my head, and tugged at my hair, and I was abruptly stopped by Sam's hand falling over mine stopping my self-inflicted painful movements.

"Hey," He said with a wide smile, not as smug and annoying as before, "It's okay, if you are that is, you know, jealous." Just like that, my anger and utter distaste rushed forward to my aid, and in an angry and offended tone, I shrieked, "I am not jealous!"

Sam, clearly not believing at all, nodded and said in a knowing tone, "Sure you aren't." I growled angrily, and sassily spat, "Listen ass-hole, I know my emotions and I can tell you right now that I do not have a freaking jealous bone in my body."

I sat back satisfied, and tried to ignore his smugness. There was nothing to be smug about, or was there? Was I really jealous? I didn't think I was, I had never really been jealous before, and I wanted to retract my earlier comments from the beginning of the night.

Sam's wide smile from inside the car flashed in my mind, and when it happened I thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world, and it probably was, but never had I been more disgusted in my life. His smug smile was still in place, and I surprised at how angry I was. I should not be, it was irrational, but I was angry all the same. It was sickening as it churned in my stomach, and I tried not to focus on it too much.

However it was too hard. All of this was wrong, wrong, wrong. I shouldn't be sitting here, with him. It is not right that my heart flutters every time he looks my way, and it cannot be healthy that I love hearing his voice. I cannot do this.

My anger had turned to despair, and absolute fear. What if I am jealous? What if this does get worse? What if I end up…actually _liking Sam_? I shook my head, and felt the anger come back, assuring me that it would never happen. It was _Sam_ of all people.

Sam obviously sensing my angry discomfort sobered, and softened slightly, offering, "I was joking Bella. No big deal, I know you weren't jealous."

His rationalizes were polite and would have loved to agree but the thing was, but he had been right. I had been jealous, and judging by the satisfaction that wasn't hidden well in his confederate eyes, he knew too, and I didn't know which was more disturbing. So rather than pleading my case once more I settled on a clipped sentence, "It is fine."

Sam nodded and we both lapsed into silence, me screaming on the inside, and Sam was probably doing his Lotto 649' dance inside. I shook my head and looked outside, trying to distract myself from my current predicament.

It was still silent between us and for once I was glad. I didn't mind it all, this way I didn't have to deal with him. Due to the fact that it was silent I could sit here and just be. I didn't have to think about this, about my situation, about how I felt my wrists being tugged at by the master puppeteer, Sam, most of all I could lie, and say that I wasn't at all affected by him.

"So, what is your problem with Leah anyway?" Sam interjected; clearly he had grown more confident over the past few minutes and thought it was alright to throw some salt on the wounds. I groaned, and snapped, "Back to this, are we?"

Sam shrugged his big shoulders, and for once out of this entire evening he actually seemed content, and at this particular moment I almost wished that he would go back to be this serious guy that I had no understanding of. The problem was that I could understand him right now, right now he was acting his age, a nineteen year old guy that was having breakfast with a seventeen year old girl, and it was that simple, yet highly complex.

"Well do you have any other suggestions as to what we could possibly talk about?" Sam challenged, leaning back, resting his broad shoulders on the soft cushions of our booth.

Sam, inadvertently just asked a loaded question, and I tried desperately to keep the evil smile off my face. "We could talk about how I can't see my two best friends because apparently they are too busy hanging out with you to even consider hanging out with me. Does that sound good Sam?" I spat bitterly, the acid coating my words thickly.

All color drained from his face, and I almost felt bad as I watched his smile fall from his lips. I inhaled deeply, satisfied with myself, I had expertly managed to turn the spotlight on him. However guilt was quick to close around my heart in a tight fist, and I nearly apologized, because by the look on his face I had gone too far.

His eyebrows met together in a hurt frown, and the veil had fell over his eyes, closing me off from him, and I could have kicked myself. His hands were closed into tight fists, and under close speculation they appeared to be trembling softly. My heart thumped dramatically in my chest, and I was scrambling to undo what I had just done.

"Sam," I sighed softly, laying my hand over his closed one, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it." Immediately he retracted his hand, and I didn't know what had hurt more, his rejection, or my own disappointment in myself.

"Yes you did, you wouldn't have said it if you hadn't meant it, right?" Sam spat, and my heart was lodged in my throat as I heard my own words being used against me. I was eating my own musings, and was choking. I looked away, and pulled my hands off the table, away from his, so they rested limply in my lap. Much to my disgust, I felt a lump take residence in my small throat, and I swallowed thickly trying to ignore its painful size, and how it seemed utterly impossible to make it go away.

"I really am sorry." I said in a strangled voice, it was odd, and not mine at all; it was weak, vulnerable, and very meek. I was none of those things, and yet I was with Sam, I was disgusted. I felt my stomach churn and heave, and it seemed as though he could hear it, or maybe Sam could just see how affected I was by his dismissive manor, whatever it was, made Sam say, "Bella, it's fine, no worries."

I knew that no, it wasn't fine, he was just trying to ease my conscience, and somehow that made me feel cheap, and ultimately dirty. So with my eyes closed, I recited my story, the images painted on the inside of my eye lids, "It was in the ninth grade, and I and Leah had been really close, and I am talking close, we made those stupid bracelets you know? The one with the beads, and it spelled out 'best friends', what a croc of shit," I opened my eyes to see Sam, looking guilty, and he quickly offered, "Bella, it is fine you really don't have to tell me."

I shook my head and wordlessly continued, "Now that I think about it, I was pretty naïve, and how hadn't seen it coming was pathetic. Anyway, we had been best friends you know, sleep-overs, braiding hair, talking about _boys_. One night, I finally confessed to Leah about a certain crush I had."

I heard a low rumbling sound, and I stopped my speech, noting that it came from Sam. I smirked, and almost stuck my tongue out, and I was sorely tempted to ask him if he was jealous, but I refrained from it, and preceded.

"When I was fourteen, Jake and I were really close, along with Embry, Paul, and Quil, and they were my only real friends, but at that age I couldn't really talk about certain things with them, at least. That is why I often wondered, at that age at least, what it would be like to have a best _girl _friend. So, I was pretty excited when Leah approached me over the summer just before grade nine, and was looking to hang out."

Sam nodded, and I took a sip of my chocolate milk Emily had just dropped off. "So, anyway, we got super close, and Leah got close with the guys too, back then I thought it was great, everyone got along, and in my eyes all was well. Until that one night." I grimaced as I pictured it, and I shook my head in shame.

"So, at a sleep-over, I told Leah about my crush on Jacob, and back then it was a big one," I chuckled at the memory, remembering how much I adored him, "So, naturally, we spent the entire night talking about Jacob, and the guys." I shuddered at my naïve ways, and was thankful I had changed for the better.

"A couple weeks later, Leah invited us all down to the beach, it had been my first real party, and I had been extremely excited. So, after one too many beers, I was a little loose, and I remember looking for Jake, ready to confess my undying love for him." Sam made that weird sound again, and I threw him a pointed glare, communicating that it was all in the past. I felt my ego expand; soar slightly, at how jealous he appeared to be. I smirked, and this time the stinging of my split lip didn't bother me this time.

"So, finally after searching and searching, I found him making out with Leah. Or Leah making out with him. When I asked her later on, why she had done it knowing that I really did like Jake, she simply told me because Jake was hot. I remember being confused and then, the next day when I saw Leah talking and laughing with her other friends, it all seemed so clear. I was just the link between her and Jake; she used me, and didn't care."

Sam looked really guilty; probably not feeling too good after forcing me to tell my story, and with a remorseful voice he apologized, "I'm so sorry—"

"Don't be," I said cutting him off. "I'm not." I sighed, and smiled a little, explaining, "It wasn't so much that she made out with Jake, I mean it hurt like a bitch when I was fourteen, but it was more so the fact that she had used me, and she didn't even care. It was all a game to her."

Sam nodded, and I remarked, "That's why I don't really trust her now, nor do I like her, she fucked me over, and in a way I am kind of thankful to her, she opened my eyes to the fact that you cannot really trust anyone, solely based on face value, and I would just like to say that I don't ill wish her, I am not bitter or anything, but I can't say that I don't jump at the chance to fuck with her. It's just me."

Sam, stared at me for a moment, and then a loud booming guffaw erupted from him, and I joined him in it too. Our sputtering laughter drew attention to us, and that only seemed to spur us on, it could have been the fact that I was extremely tired, and was feeling equally giddy, and right about now, everything seemed more than a little funny.

We calmed down some, and stopped once we saw Emily headed for the direction of our table with two steaming plates. Emily was closer now, and she set down the plated in front of us mentioning quickly that they were hot before she departed to take care of her other customers.

We dug into our food, the sound of forks scraping plates seeming too loud in the silence between us. I finished quickly, having devoured my food out of my strong hunger, and watched as Sam finished. I was rubbing my stomach in satisfaction when Sam asked eyeing my toast, "Are you going to have the last two slices?"

"Nope, help yourself." I said shoving the plate closer to him. He quickly picked one up, smearing jam all over it, shoving it into his mouth in too large bites, before doing the same with the other. It was only now that I noticed how much food Sam had actually consumed, and it was a lot, even by my standards.

"What?" Sam asked, obviously seeing my shock. "Nothing, that's just a lot of food." Sam smiled and smartly replied, "Are you calling me fat?" I hook my head and tried to mask my laughter, calling Sam fat would be blasphemous, it simply isn't right. Sam was no where near that, and I chuckled a little at the thought.

Sam chuckled too, and plucked the excess bacon strips from my plate. "What if I was saving those? Maybe I wanted to eat those, and here you have stolen them from me." Sam snorted, and said, "Ah, young grass hopper, you used the word 'if' which implies you were not going to eat them, so I am doing you a favor. You would be wise to thank me, plus you don't mind, you _love_ me." He finished this with a wide grin, and I rolled my eyes at his antics.

Sam finished eating both our plates, and we quickly departed after paying. We hopped into the cruiser, and it was quick ride to my house. We saddled up to the curb, and once we came to a halt I hopped out of the car, shouting out, "See you Wednesday!" I was eager to get inside, to my bed, where I could just fall asleep.

"Wait!" Sam deep voice bellowed, and I wordlessly turned around expectantly looking at him. "How did you know it was Wednesday?" He asked with a smirk, he was now in front of me, and I felt my cheeks heat slightly, and my ears burn. My mouth fell open, and then closed again, and I released, "If you fucking laugh I will cut off your balls, and wear them as earrings alright? We, as in Jake, Quil, Embry, Paul, and I memorized your schedule so we wouldn't get caught."

Sam's mouth fell open in shock and I smirked, and surprising he said, "That's actually really smart." I chuckled, and deepened my voice to match his from earlier while saying, "Are you calling me stupid?"

Sam and I laughed, and I slowly stepped back, whilst saying, "Anyway, I'm going to go sleep now, and I will see you tomorrow."

Sam nodded, and replied, "See you later, or tomorrow." I nodded, and turned away clambering up the steps of my porch before quickly entering, the sound of the cruiser pulling away my only indication that Sam had left.

I pulled my boots off kicking them roughly, impatient as ever, and was two steps the stairs when I heard my mother, "Bella, is that you?" I rolled my eyes, who else would it be? But nonetheless I yelled politely back, "Yup, I'm home."

My mom entered the hallway, coming from the kitchen, wearing her pajamas, and pink frilly robe. "Would you like some breakfast?" I shook my hand, resting my weight against the banister as I supplied, "No thanks, I had breakfast with Sam."

My mom smiled knowingly, as if eating breakfast with Sam was a date, or something equally dubious. "Oh, well then, did you two have fun?" I rolled my eyes, and groaned, "Mom, it was breakfast, with _Sam_."

"Sure it was." My mom said in that tone that I hated and I wordlessly grumbled up with steps, her bubbling laughter chasing after me. I walked down the hall to bedroom, entering quickly and flopping onto my bed for a nice nap.

I lay on my bed, in my uncomfortable jeans that I had been wearing all night, and decided that it would be a wise idea to have a shower and then have a nap. I heaved my heavy body up and off the bed, and even this trivial task seemed to require whatever energy I had left. I groaned and stood, stripping my clothes along the way, and heading for the bathroom.

I stepped onto to the cool tile, and reached into the shower, turning the knobs to an appropriate heat, and stepped in, relishing in its soothing caress. I stood in the spray for a good few minutes, just enjoying the heat, and how good it felt after my long night. I sighed and continued about by business.

After a lengthily shower, longer than necessary actually, I stepped out and dried off, wrapping my towel tightly around me, matching the one that sat atop my head. I reentered my bedroom, and pulled on a pair of loose gym shorts, and an over sized t-shirt. After bending over and roughly rubbing a towel through my hair, I pulled it up into a sloppy bun, and flopped on my bed.

I slid under the covers, and I rolled to my side, bring my legs up and tucking them in. Sleep found me easily, and I blissfully fell into the blankness that was sleep.

____

Blank, unaware, blissfully beautiful….what the fuck?

I felt myself being shaken, and I had never been so mad about my sleep being interrupted, "Bella!" I briefly heard, or I thought I had heard. Everything was unstable. And I was far too groggy to even identify what was happening. It felt as though I had gone to sleep five minutes ago, and I wanted nothing more than slip back into sleep.

I groaned, as I felt the mattress as it shifted and quaked, and I was ready to kill the fucker who was in my space. I peeked one eye open, and was assaulted by the bright light of the afternoon, I groaned and shut my eyes.

"Fuck off!" I said, and blindly tried to shove away my harasser, hoping it wasn't my mother, if she heard me now, she wouldn't be pleased. "Do I sound like your mother?" A voice, I now identified to be Jacob's, and I smartly replied in annoyed tone: "No, but you do sound like a douche-bag."

Jake laughed and I eye growled at him, and ,much to my annoyance I felt the covers yanked away from me, leaving me out in the cold. I whimpered, my sound of protest lost on Jake as he chuckled more, and finally with a loud roar I sat up, eyes blazing with fury, and I yelled, "What?!"

"Is that anyway to greet me, after I snuck out, and risked my father's wrath, just to see you?" Jacob scorned, and I rolled my eyes, no at all appreciating his dramatics at this time in the day, after I had only so many hours of sleep.

"What do you want?" I gritted out, knowing there had to be some ulterior motive for him to risk his ass. Jacob smiled sweetly, and I growled, knowing I was far too awake by now to even consider going back to sleep.

"There's a party tonight, and I wanted you to know." Jake said nonchalantly, and I was highly suspicious, and before he could explain I quickly rattled off, "First off, I really don't believe you came all the way over here just to tell me that, after all you are risking getting caught by Billy. Secondly, we are grounded dumbass."

Jacob rolled his eyes at me, and said, "That has never stopped you, or me, before." That was true, I had been grounded so much, and I snuck out so many times before during my punishment, but some how, this time, it was different.

"Jake, there will be other parties, but this time, I can't. My mom is already upset enough as it is, and well, I don't think it would be wise for me to push it with her." I explained, pleading with him to understand.

"Why is it different?" Jake queried, asking the inevitable question. I sighed and smoothed my hair, noting that it was quite messy. "I don't know it just is." I supplied, knowing he wouldn't be satisfied. In away, I really didn't know why it was different, but I just knew that it was. Call it female instinct or some crazy shit like that, but I just knew it was different.

Jake frowned, and echoed his earlier question, "Why? Why is it different?" I groaned, and rubbed my hands up and down my face, and was utterly shocked when Sam's face flashed before me. In that instant I knew why I was saying 'no' to Jake, I didn't want to disappoint Sam. I didn't want him to think of me as this bratty teenager you drank like a fish, and thought she knew everything. I rubbed my temples, still thinking. I wanted to be more than that, I wanted be equal, to looked at with pride, I wanted to prove to him, that I was better than what he thought me to be.

"I don't know." I simpered, and said, "It just fucking is." Jake eyed me suspiciously, and with anger marring his features he spat, "It's because of _Sam_ isn't it?" I gaped at him and yelled, "Why would it be about him? That makes no sense, granted I would be pretty stupid if I went out tonight and he would find out, and then we would all end up back where we started. But this time I think we would receive the actual punishment."

Jake nodded, pleased with my answer. I inwardly relaxed, able to breathe knowing I had successfully lied to him, convincing him that this wasn't about Sam, when it really was.

Jake left after that, well, after I kicked him out, demanding that he let me rest. After I heard him leave, I picked up the covers and pulled them over myself, trying to relax. It didn't work, I was still wired up, and ready to go and do something.

I knew with an infinite clarity that my reasoning would only appease Jacob for so long before he really caught on and figured it out for himself. I had to pick a side, and quickly too, but I knew I couldn't. I didn't want to be like Paul and Embry, but I didn't want to disappoint Sam who seemed to my life on its ear, leaving me confused. I would rather stay caught between a rock and a hard place, than give honest answers.

I sighed and rolled out of bed, pulling on a pair of comfortable grey sweats, and an old band t-shirt. I strolled out of my room, my hair combed and returned to a bun, and clomped down the stairs.

My mother, having heard my approach, popped her head out of the kitchen door way, and said in a sweet voice, "Bella dear, would you mind going into Port Angeles and grabbing me a can of chicken broth?" I nodded, eager to be out of the house without supervision. She handed me the car keys to our old SUV and I slipped on my jacket, and converse before heading out.

My converse loudly slapped against the wet pavement as I made my way towards the old car, getting in and turning the heat on. It was slight nippy out, even for summer, and I rubbed my hands together hoping the friction would warm them.

I pulled away from the parking spot and drove to my desired destination. The commute was short, thankfully, and I quickly pulled up in front of the local grocery store. I entered the building, settling for a basket rather than a buggy, and headed for the aisle in which the chicken broth was kept.

I found it quickly, and placed it in the basket, moving onto things that o thought we needed. I pulled a box of pop-tarts off the shelf, and moved onto another aisle. After multiple unnecessary items I entered the check out line, and let my gaze fall onto the other patrons.

The line dragged, and from my left I heard a rumbling voice, "Do you ever sleep?" I looked in the direction in which it came from, and was met with the sight of Sam Uley out of uniform. He was dressed in dark wash jeans, and a ratty old t-shirt, but still it suited him well. "Nope." I replied , popping the 'p'.

"Do you?" I countered, stepping forward in line, and I couldn't help but noticed Sam switching out of his line and into mine, so he was directly behind me. "Nah, it's overrated." Sam supplied, sarcasm slipping into his words. I chuckled at this, and inched forward some more.

Soon I was at the front and unloading all my food. "Pop-tarts? Really?" Sam asked looking unimpressed, and I immediately defended. "Hey! Pop-tarts are great, you do not know what you are missing out on."

He smirked, nodded his head with a drawn out, "Sure." I rolled my eyes and paid for the food as the cashier had directed. I bagged my stuff at the end, and with blood flooding my cheeks I spoke, "See you on Wednesday." Sam laughed, looking at my cheeks, "Yeah, see you on Wednesday."

I departed from the store and it wasn't until I was on my way home, the heat blasting warming my cool cheeks that I realized just how close I was to joining the dark side. I sighed, trying not to think about it, and I briefly moved to rub my wrist, as if this simple movement would erode away the string that appeared to have ensnared my wrist.

**A/N: Another chapter. I lied. That was a lot of Sam. Be happy. Anyway I hoped you enjoyed reading this and if you did please let me know. Once again sorry for the slow update, I cannot even guarantee that the next chapter will be up any quicker, but I can say that I will try. **

**Anyway I appreciate all the reviews, and just all of the people adding me to their author alert, favorite author, favorite story, and story alert. This shows me you care, and I cannot be more thankful of your comments, and praises. **

**Play list:**

**Help I'm alive—Metric **

**I've got a Man—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Tick—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**I just wanna be free—The Handcuffs**

**Hope you all enjoyed! I will try and update soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Okay, here we go! Another chapter! This is a kind of big one. A little, it all depends on how you look at it. Anyway I got several questions in your reviews in regards to my last chapter, and I will answer them all right now.**

**READ THIS--IT IS IMPORTANT--CONTAINS VITAL INFO ABOUT THE STORY...yeah...please read**

**Does Bella STILL have a crush on Jacob: No. Not at all. Not one bone in her body. Why? Well because like I said in my first author's note, this is a Bella and Sam story, not a Jacob, Bella, Sam love triangle thing. So sorry, to disappoint, but the only thing Bella has for Jake is friendship. Also have you ever had one of those crushes? You know the one's where he, or she, is your best friend and all of a sudden you really like them, and you know it is far more than friendship, and you think they are the most amazing thing/person in the world. Then, all of a sudden they aren't so great, and you realize that it was just that, a crush? It all makes sense, because you spend most your time with them, and they are your first real exposure to what it means to have a crush, and that is why they are so cool. Plus, your rose coloured glasses have been taken off, stomped on and in pieces after Bella ripped them off your face and crushed them with her combat boots, and yelled at you for be a frickin' love-sick fool. That is what happened with Bella and Jake. So yeah, no love triangle. Sorry. **

**Does Leah miss Bella: Huh. That is a good one. Well because I right everything from Bella's perspective, and I am not an 'omniscient narrator' I can't really say. I right in first person (Bella) so that means I really only am familiar with her, and because this is my first time really twisting Bella and turning her character entirely on its ear, I would like to stay in my little Bella box, and just stay out of other characters minds. So no, I am not telling, but you all will find out later.**

**Okay so maybe I didn't get several questions (readers snort here) but I did answer two that I thought were really key to your understanding as you all read my story. So my lovely readers, that is the end of my Q/A and I hope you all like this chapter. **

**Chapter Five: They are dropping like flies, leaving me to man the island**

After my little field trip to the grocery store, I went home and collapsed onto the couch, utterly spent. It was amazing how little energy I had to spare, and my couch was feeling softer and softer with each miniscule droop of my eyelids. I was more than content to fall into the abyss when my mother in her more than annoying voice called, "Bella did you get it?"

I rolled my eyes and felt like saying, No Mom, I just drove all the way to Port Angeles, ran into the bane of my existence, Sam Uley, so that I could _not_ buy your god forsaken chicken broth. I held my retort in and simply replied, "Yes." I didn't move from my spot, remaining the couch, closing my eyes I laid still. "Well would you like to come in and give it to me?" My mother, rather than asked but ordered, said in an impatient tone.

"Last time I checked your legs weren't broken…" I grumbled, hauling myself up into a sitting position before standing on my tired feet. I groaned, and stood tall, deliberately stretching slowly to further keep my mother waiting. "Isabella Marie Swan, what on earth are you doing? And what to you just say to me under your breath!"

"Just reflecting upon my undying love for you, _mother_!" That couldn't have been more far from the truth, and she and I both knew it, but she simply settle for a un- lady-like snort of disbelief, and raised her eye brows when I entered the kitchen. I simply walked right over to the kitchen counter and allowed the heavy grocery bag to land on the table with a decisively careless thump, before unloading all that I bought.

I spitefully saved her broth to be the last thing to come out of the bag, and it was highly comical to watch as she grew more impatient with each time my hand entered the bag, pulling out yet another item that clearly was not chicken broth. When I knew there was nothing left but the sacred chicken broth, I, in exaggerated slow motion, reached in and mercilessly slow I pulled it out of the bag, a shit eating grin on my smug face the entire time.

"Hardy-har-har." My mother said in a flat tone that made me smile bigger, and throw in a chuckle for good measure. "Awe, what is wrong? Your patience becoming less and less abundant with old age?" I goaded, to which she smiled, her eyes sparkling whilst she retorted, "Aren't you just precious?"

"Don't you know it!" I said taking her place as she stood to put away what I had taken out. I sat at the table on our old uncomfortable chairs, and just to see if they had changed, which they hadn't, I wiggled around trying to achieve what I had been working on for the past years, look for the spot where I didn't feel as though I had no ass and the bones in my but weren't directly coming into contact with this frickin' chair.

I sighed and looked at my mother who was busy opening the can, "What's wrong?" She asked not looking up, and it was in these moments that I wondered how she did it. Was it something that came with being a mom? Did you just suddenly gain this intuition to know when exactly your child was upset? Or did you just suddenly know what each and every sound your kid made meant? I shook my head, and just replied, "Nothing, just tired." At that a huge yawn escaped, one that made me wish for a more flexible jaw.

Truth was, that although I had managed to push all my concerns in regards to Sam in general, I could still feel them lingering on the fringes of my mind. They sat in my stomach, waiting, churning and making feel as though I could be sick. I didn't know what to do, how did I approach it? How did I counter what Sam was doing to me, and I knew I wouldn't be able to hold out much longer, before I surrender completely. But I couldn't let that happen, it wouldn't be responsible.

Embry and Paul were the two deal breakers, not that there was anything to break; he was Sam Uley, end of story. The fact that he was the reason that Embry and Paul had shifted, me, Jake and Quil to the back burner was able to raise my anger, lodging it in my throat so it was hard to breathe. It seemed abnormal, the rage so quick and so blinding, but it was there, and reaching around my heart and closing in a tight embrace that made my heart thump in a heavy beat, as if it would throw it off. It was so aggravating, and I still had no answers, I believed Sam knew more about me than I did him. How did this happen? I went in thinking I could tease the information out of him, and finally I would receive some warped sense of closure, but I had never been more wrong. Sam knew more about me and that was unsettling in the worst way possible.

I got up from the counter, my anger still running hotly through my veins, and marched out to the front porch. My feet were no longer heavy with tiredness but with that of anger, making me stomp. I got outside, and stood on the porch, angry puffs of air escaping as I tried to calm down, but it seemed impossible. The rage was too thick to dilute, and I briefly wondered why I was so angry but that didn't matter because all I could think of was Embry and Paul.

Their words echoed in my mind, whispering in hissing voices, encouraging my anger, _Sam is a god guy, don't judge him…Busy..._"Ah!" I screamed my voice shrill and painful, even to my ears. Blood was rushed past my ears in that _whoosh_ sound, and the sound seemed loud in my ears, so I released another screech, and with a clarity that I didn't know was possible in my current, I realized that this was it. This was my melt down. I was finally acknowledging what Sam had done.

Just when I was about to release another scream, my mother burst from the house, her eye frantic, obviously searching for the person who had caused my bouts of anger and vocal noises, but she saw know one. "What is wrong?" My mother said, calming some, but not fully, still awaiting my response.

"Nothing." I said in a voice that was still angry, but it had dulled some, but I could feel it clawing its way up, scratching my throat with its controlling claws, waiting to escape. "It cannot be nothing." My mother said firmly, wanting an answer from me.

"Okay!" I yelled, and without my consent the anger seemed to spew forth, in hot enraged spurts, "Maybe it isn't nothing! But I just don't want to talk about it! So please just leave me alone! I need to do this by myself!" My mom, who in all my life had never been hesitant to let me do something on my own, or let me use my independence, faltered right before my eyes. I could see her hesitance, her timid nature permeated the air, and I pleaded with my eyes for her to let me go, let this go. She nodded once, and briefly asked, "Where are you going?" I jutted my chin in the direction of the beach, which was close enough that she would probably be able to see me. She nodded in with one last warning, "Be back for dinner."

I took off down the steps, and nearly ran to the beach. I was hoping that my spent energy would lead to spent anger, but the unsettling anger was still with me as I sat at the beach. I stuffed my hands into the sand, digging down deep, trying so hard not to scream, trying not to yell to the world that I missed my friends. Trying hard not to say that I hated Sam for doing this to me. Trying not to scream that Sam made my heart race and ache all at the same time, just trying. I gave a whimper, too confused at what was happening.

This shouldn't be me. I shouldn't be in riddles all over one guy that I shouldn't even think of. However I was. I was.

It wasn't just Sam, though. It was everything. It was the fact that I felt abandoned by my friends. Was it me? Had I done something? Or was it all three of us? Had Jake, Quil and I done something? I closed my hands around the sand, feeling it dig under my nails and stay there, I gave an angry groan and yanked my hands out of the damp ground. Everything was just so wrong. I knew I had felt this before, but never so intensely.

I took a deep breath, still feeling the anger that seemed to have taken a permanent residence in my body, and slowly released it. the anger seemed to dull, calm slightly, and I knew I was done. It was until a brief wind ran past me, reaching out its nimble fingers out to caress my cheeks that I knew I had been crying. I looked around wildly, seeing if anyone had witnessed my moment of weakness, and was satisfied when I saw that I was alone on the beach.

I wiped away the residue of my tears, and tried not to think of them. It had been so long since I had cried, and I didn't want it to become a regular occurrence. For I wasn't that girl, that little over-sensitive weakling that wore her heart on her sleeve. So with my tears dried, wiped away, I stood up, and slowly walked back to my house.

I guess I should be glad that I was alone at the beach, and severely pleased that Jacob hadn't found me, but some how when I saw him my heart lurched. Would he leave me too? I thought, the voice small, and pitiful as it whispered my concerns. I shied away from it, straitening my posture, and knew, with all my heart that Jake, or even Quil for that matter, would never leave me.

"Hey!" Jake said with a wide smile, and much to my pleasure the anger was chased away by Jake's bright smile. Jake was able to do that with everyone, I have seen in it for myself. He had this uncanny contagious energy, and you couldn't help adapt to his always happy nature, it was just something that he had. For his dark past and not-so-easy childhood Jake was amazingly atypical. He remained happy constantly, albeit he was like everyone else and had normal emotions, but somehow, his energy was impressive and always impacted everyone in the room. It was magnificently contagious, and sometimes I envied him for that. But right now, at this precise moment, I was only thankful.

I smiled back and remarked, "I'm surprised Billy let you out of the house." Jake chuckled lightly, and said, "He didn't, he's out doing something, thought I would take my chances." I smiled, and I found that I was yawning again. I rolled my eyes at myself, and tried to think of a way to stop the next yawn that I felt coming on. Jake laughed at me, and I simply said, "Fuck off. How the fuck are you not tired?"

Jake shrugged his shoulders and replied, "Don't know. Could be I have had one too many coffees, but other than that I am good." I nodded my head at his rambling and acknowledged, "I see." Jake rolled his eyes, and I decided to change topics. "So how was your first night out, see any victims?" I asked sarcastically. Jake shook his head, and appeased, "Nah, nothing major, you do realize we are still in La Push, right?"

I rolled my eyes, and noted that I much preferred Jacob when he wasn't all hopped up on caffeine. I gave him a pointed look to which he smirked, and I asked, "So who is your supervisor?"

"Some guy named Eli." Jake supplied, and I couldn't help but wonder if he actually with held information on purpose so that he may piss me off even more, I was betting on this to be true. My irritation must have been obvious and Jake laughed and asked, "What? Did you want me to say? I didn't spend the entire time making conversation with the guy; we drove around, and talked about sports."

I nodded, and couldn't help but feel the disappointment. I didn't know what I had expected, but maybe just maybe, Jake had gotten more out of his past evening than I had. I also couldn't help but wonder if Jake was aware of how abnormal all four of them were, Jared, Sam, Embry and Paul, did he notice like I did? However I didn't think he did, but I could tell he wasn't too pleased to be riding shotgun with a guy who was friends with Sam Uley and was probably just a big a fan as everybody else.

"So how long are you grounded for?" Jacob asked, and it wasn't until now, him having asked the question, that I realized that I didn't really know. My mother never really set a date or a nailed down a time, she just well, punished me, and I was assuming I wasn't allowed out. "I don't fucking know, my mother hasn't told me." I replied, and Jake smiled.

"Jacob Black!" Billy's booming cut through the space between us, and Jake's happy smile was replaced with a grimace, and I guffawed at the quick change. "Isabella Marie Swan, what are you doing out there?" Billy continued to scold, "Does you mother know?"

My peels of laughter stopped, and I looked for the old man who had caught us, I saw him on his porch, angrily gripping the wheels of his chair as he glared at us, I smirked and asked. "How do you live with him? He is such a hard-ass."

Jake groaned and complained, "You don't even know the half of it. Did you know he is making me go to bed early tonight? Fucking old man can go to bed he's the on that needs it. Fuck my life…" I laughed at his rant, and began to walk away when I heard, "Jacob Black if you do not get your ass back in this house, so help me god you will not be allowed out of my house for a very long time!"

"Like that'll stop me…" Jacob muttered, walking towards the angry old man, "Later, Bells." Jacob said, cutting across his lawn, and entering the house with, 'I'm in! I'm in!' I laughed, shaking my head at the display, and continued along the road, towards my house.

Finally I reached my house, and saw that my mom was waiting in the living room, nervously wringing her hands. I stopped in the doorway, and my mom wordlessly patted the cushion of the sofa that she sat on. I hesitantly stepped in, not wanting for her to address my earlier display.

I sat down, not looking her I the eye, as she smoothed out my hair with the gentlest of touches. "You have me very worried." My mother spoke softly, and my heart leapt, I didn't want her to worry about me. I could save that for myself. "You shouldn't be, I'm fine." I said firmly, wishing she would believe me.

"Please, tell me, what is wrong?" My mom encouraged, and for a moment I wanted to. I wanted to unload all of this and tell her how confused I was. How this wasn't right. I wanted to have someone listen and tell me I was crazy, that I wasn't hearing things. That it was normal for boys my age, and not so older, to growl an animalistic sound, to be able to grow into men in two short weeks. I wished she could brush away it all like she was doing now with my hair, but I knew it wasn't that simple. So with a heavy heart, weighed down by all my confusion and secrets I lied to her, "Nothing is wrong, I'm fine."

My mother sighed, and removed her hands from my hair, and pulled me into her arms, "You can tell me anything." I nodded, and tried not to think of how this wasn't me. I was seventeen, and I shouldn't need to be held in my mother's arms. I was loosing my grip on who I was. I missed my callousness, my detached out look, I wasn't this girl. I wasn't the girl who needed her mother to scare the monsters away, I was my person. I depended on my self.

Having felt me stiffen my mother pulled away nodding understandingly, whilst she murmured, "I forget sometimes."

"Forget what?" I asked confused, not sure what she meant. "I forget that you're seventeen. Not my little girl anymore by any means." I shrugged my shoulders, at my mother's response, and soothed, "I'll always be your little girl. But sometimes it's nice to be the big girl." My mother laughed, and departed to the kitchen leaving me with my thoughts, which was getting more and more dangerous with each passing day.

I grimaced and sat back on my couch with a huff. I was treading in dangerous waters; apparently I was becoming obvious with each passing hour. I couldn't let that happen. It seemed as though everyone knew that I was most definitely not okay, and I couldn't help but wonder what had happened. I missed the old me. The me before Sam.

I groaned and tried not to think about it all. About Sam. About my life. I laid there on the couch, not thinking, not screaming, just being.

_____________

Apparently I had fallen asleep on the couch, and I was roughly awoken by a pounding on the door. My mom hurried to reach it and I half expected it to be the reaper knocking on the door, but much to my surprise it was old Quil. My heart rushed up into my throat, lodging itself their, painfully thudding as I thought up the worst things that could come from him. My mind immediately went to Quil. Was something wrong? Had something happened?

Old Quil stood, looking older than I had ever seen him, wringing his hands, and I immediately stood rushing to my parents' sides. It was as though if I could get there quick enough then the news wouldn't be so bad.

"Something's wrong with Quil, he's really sick. I don't know what to do, ad he keeps asking for Bella and Jake, and I just thought…that I would obey his wishes." The way Old Quil said made it seem as though Quil was on his death bed, wanting to see everybody before he kicked the bucket. I shook my head, and knew, deep down that something may be wrong, but Quil, annoying fucking pimple on the ass of progress Quil, was not dying on me. He couldn't do this to me. He was just sick.

I rushed past Old Quil, and I briefly heard my parents yelling at me, to wait, just wait. But no, no I couldn't wait, because as long as we were friends, I would never wait. I ran over to Jake's pounding on the door, just as Old Quil had, hoping and praying that Jake would answer. Thank God he did, and with a drowsy voice he asked, "Bella?"

"Who else would the fuck it be?" I asked angrily and preceded, "Listen we have to go. Now. It's Quil, he's really sick."

Jake nodded, throwing on his shoes, and asking, "What's wrong with him?" I shrugged my shoulders, and tried to keep the panic from him before I replied to the best of my ability, "I didn't stick around long enough so I could examine the symptoms, and I just left after his Dad showed up at my house worried as fuck."

Jake's wide eyes let me know that he had felt as well as heard my anger, and I didn't even feel bad. I was far too worried over Quil. I don't think he realized how fiercely protective, and how much I cared about him and Quil, but he knew now and that was enough. I wordlessly began to walk over to Quil's, leaving Jake to follow me.

Finally after many angry steps we had made it to Quil's and I had never been so happy to see his house. I marched right up the steps as if it were my own house, and before I could even reach the door, it was opened by none other than Sam Uley.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I spat, all my anger from earlier today rushing forward, along with a little fear. Was he here to take away Quil, just like he did to Paul and Embry? I shook my head and tried not to meditate over it too much.

"I could ask you the same thing." He replied, he evading the question. I couldn't help but notice he did that a lot, not answering, just avoiding. I scoffed and ground out, "What? _You're_ asking _me_ why _I'm_ here. I am here because my best friend is sick and asking for me, so if you value your life I assume you are going to get the fuck out of my way."

With that I continued my steps and was at the door way of the house—Sam was still in my way—and pushed past him, knocking shoulders with him, to further emphasize my point. _I_ belonged here. Not him. _Me_.

I heard Quil before I saw him, his moans and groans filled with a pain I couldn't feel or imagine, but it till reached out and made me want to take it on. I walked up the stairs, and noted that the guy who I noted to be Jared was sitting with him, in a chair, just watching, not consoling. My anger was now an uncountable feature and in an angry tone, that was fed up with them all, I screeched, "Get the fuck out!"

Jared sputtered but said, "No." I made a threatening sound, and looked to Jake who appeared to be shocked into silence. I took a deep breath and said, "Listen fucker, get out, and go jerk Sam off for all I care but just leave right now. I can and will hurt you, don't try me."

"Leave Jared." Sam's voice said, no humor undertones, just serious, as if it were an order. Jared glared, but said nothing and walked away, Sam closing the door behind him. I shook my head and sighed, and briefly hurt a gurgled laughed, and I looked to Quil who was lying on the bed.

I walked slowly over to him, afraid that I would somehow make his condition worse just by making a wrong move. I sighed and sat down in the chair Jared had just vacated, noting how warm it was before I examined Quil.

His fine, delicate hair were matted and clinging to his forehead, beads of sweat gluing them together. In fact, his entire body seemed too drenched with a coat of sweat, making his bronze skin shine with a new vigor. Where he lay, sweat surrounded him, darkening the sheets. I shook my head and asked, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Quil and Jake barked out a laugh and I smirked, knowing we would be okay. Even now when we were all confused as ever, we were still us. Jake, Quil and Bella. We were okay. I smiled slightly, and looked around, finding what I had been looking for. A bowl of cool water sat on his nightstand table, a wash cloth, half in half out, and with shaking hands; I took it in my hands. I dipped it into the water, soaking up the coolness, and wringing it out before, laying it gently over Quil's forehead. As I did so, my hands gently brushed over Quil's forehead, and I hissed drawing my hand away, he was _hot_. Far too warm, almost warmer than Sam. I shook my head pushing my conspirator thoughts away.

"When did this start?" Jake queried, trying to find the logic in the madness. I sighed, and flipped the cloth on his head over, noting it was warm already. Quil shrugged, and replied, "I don't know. A couple days ago? It has just gotten worse."

I shook my head, and peeled the clothe away, and even though it hurt my hand slightly, I smoothed back Quil's hair, pushing it off and away from his boiling forehead. I repeated my actions with the cloth, and placed it back over Quil's forehead. "You have a big ass forehead." I observed, noting how the cloth was disproportional. Quil chuckled and requested, "Remind me why I asked to see you?"

"Because you love me, sunshine." I replied, a sugary sweet smile on my more than smug face. All of us laughed, and I flipped the cloth over, making sure the cooler side rested on his head.

We went on like that for the next couple of moments, wasting the time, distracting Quil. Quil interrupted briefly asking for a glass of water, and I grabbed the bowl of water too, intending to refill it. I walked out of the room, careful not to spill the bowl, and turned left entering the hall. I walked into the bathroom, dumping the used water down the sink and, turned on the tap. I let the water run, sticking my hand under it, gauging the temperature until it was cold. I filled the bowl up, letting rest on the closed toilet seat before I began refilling the glass of water.

I reentered the hallway, and stopped abruptly when I heard the voices.

"Sam they shouldn't be here, not during the transformation." Jared said, and I frowned. Transformation? What transformation? My ears seemed to strain, trying to listen, but they were quiet, so I moved closer to the railing so that I could hear more, and better.

"It's early yet, it'll be fine." Sam reassured, though I could her impatience in his tone. However Jared just didn't know when to quit and went on, "We don't know that! What if they get him angry? What if he phases too early?"

Phases? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I scowled, not able to keep up with this conversation; I shook my head and leaned even closer. "Jared!" Sam reprimanded, and yelled, "Enough, my word is final! They are here to visit! Leave it be, and that is an order." The tone to Sam's voice told me it was indeed an order, and I was more confused than ever. An order? Who the fuck does he think he is?

"Bells?" Quil called and, I was so startled I spilt some of the water onto the stairs, making all conversation, or would be conversation, stop all together stop downstairs. "Shit…" I hissed, and rushed away, entering the bedroom and closed it behind me.

My heart was thudding rapidly in my chest I set the water bowl down, and handed the glass of water to Quil. All I could think of was how Sam and Jared knew that I knew whatever I knew. Gah, this was confusing. I don't even know what I know, what I have just learned. "Bells?" Jake ask concerned, his eyes taking in my stricken features. "Yeah, I am fine. Just tired."

Quil looked at me too, and I rolled my eyes, shying away from their concern, pretending like they had no reason to be. Rather than acknowledging them, I simply resumed my duties with the cloth, and tried to ignore their stares.

______

It was late when Jake and I left, and I couldn't help but run down the stairs and out of the house. The looks Sam and Jared gave me were frightening. They weren't angry, they were suspicious. That was worse, because now, now, they had a reason to bother me, to watch me. I looked away from them as I walked by, and my steps were punctuated with a sense of urgency as I left the house.

Sam, nodded at Jared just as I left, sending Jared up the stairs, and I hoped that Jared would take up my duty with the cloth and take care of Quil care like I had been. Sam saw us out, and closed the door behind us but I still felt him watching even as Jake and I followed the pathway that lead us out to the road.

When we reached it Jake and I were silent, both of us to introverted in out own worlds to even bother to acknowledge the other. The sound of our feet shuffling was the only noise we made, and I couldn't be bothered to even try making conversation with him.

Sighing I tried not to think of the conversation I had heard earlier. _Transformation…phasing…get him angry…too early…_I shook my head, not want to hash this out in my head right here, right now. I had too much going on, I felt a head ache coming on, and I was more a less pleased when I saw my house.

"I'm worried Jake." I said as I stood at the end of the walkway that lead to my front porch. Jake nodded and murmured, "Me too, me too." I shook my head and said, "No Jake, I mean _really_ worried. I really am." My voice was small and Jake looked at me shocked, before pulling me to him, enveloping me in his strong arms. Even though they were small, they still brought the same comfort.

"Don't be, I'm here." Jake soothed, and a small voice in the back of my head whispered, but for how long? I shook by head, nestling further in. Even though all of today, I had been resenting my weaknesses, I couldn't lie and say it didn't feel good to depend on someone else other than myself for just this once.

Jake released my shortly after, but I remained standing in front of him before I demanded; "We need to keep him safe. I don't like that Sam is there, what if he makes off like Embry and Paul?"

Jake shrugged probably feeling just as helpless as I was feeling, and I hated feeling as though I had no where to go, no options. It settled in my stomach, making me feel horrible, my stomach clenching and relaxing in its fretting nerves.

"Let's not think about that. We don't know what is even going to happen." Jake said, and eve though that was the most logical thing he could offer, I didn't want to take it. For Jake hadn't heard what I had, and somewhere inside my filthy brain, I knew and was absolutely certain that Quil was next. Whatever was wrong with Paul and Embry, I knew Quil was going to suffer that same thing, whatever it was. That was the most confusing of it all. I didn't know what was happening, I knew it wasn't normal, wasn't right, but what for all things that are holy, what was it? I was drawing blank, I knew I had all the pieces; I was just missing what would string it all together, and that ignorance was troubling.

However Jake seemed more than content to swallow his pragmatic perspective and I couldn't help but envy that. He was more than happy to just chalk all of this up to an abnormal sickness, but I couldn't. With what seemed to be the weight of the world on my shoulders I sighed, "See you later Jake."

I was already turned away when I heard Jake's response, but I was far to busy trying to organize my jumbled thoughts to acknowledge it. I opened my screen door, creaking in response like it normally did, and I pushed open the heavy wooden one also. I walked in, and saw that Old Quil was sitting wit my parents, nodding at their useless advice. "How is he?" Old Quil asked, as if some how in the past few hours, Quil had gotten better.

"Alright, bad fever, other than that he seems fine." I supplied, not knowing what he wanted to hear. But that was the thing, Quil seemed fine, but I knew better, because whatever was happening with Quil was more than an abnormal fever.

Went upstairs after that, heading straight for my bed. I lay there on my bed, trying not to think of today's events. They were far too confusing, but one thing I knew for certain. I would get the information I needed from Sam, and it was official. I was not going to surrender. Sam would not win, even if that meant me denying how my heart stuttered, and my heart warmed with each smile he threw my way. I would survive this, and I would come out a winner. I knew it, and I was not letting Quil go without a fight.

**A/N: DUH! DUH! DUH! (Dramatic piano sounds) Dramatic huh? This was a big one!! What is in store for our dear Bella, as everyone around her doesn't see what she is seeing? Wait and find out! Next chapter will be up soon if you guys review…a lot. **

**Let me know what you thought, preferences, critiques (but keep them nice, not too harsh, please).**

**Play list:**

**Blindness—Metric**

**All around Me—Flyleaf**

**I'm so sick—Flyleaf **

**I hate Everything about you—Three Days Grace**

**Yeah, this was an angry, angst filled chapter—just the way I like it. (Author smiles) Anyway, please read and review, and yeah, review. Please. **

**Sorry..it was kind of short...anyway, regardless, review, please and thank you!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: One big thank you to you all! I have been getting amazing reviews, and I have had a shit eating grin on my face the entire time! Thanks for setting me to your author alerts—that alone is a complement in itself—also for setting me to your favorite author, or my story to one of your favorites, or favorite author, and for reviewing! THANK YOU! You guys rock and I cannot tell you how pleased and gracious I am. So please, trust me when I say I genuinely am thankful, because I am!**

**By the way—happy Thanksgiving to all the Canadians reading this story!**

**Disclaimer—I own nothing, it all goes to Mrs. Meyer. **

**Boarders**

**Chapter Six: I hate Sam Uley. Case closed. **

I woke up, completely tired even though I had had a goodnight's sleep. It seemed as though all energy had left me the moment I thought of Sam. It could have been that my emotions instinctively went into cluster-fuck mode and my brain was trying to categorize them all, but was having no luck. I had given up trying to even figure out all that had happened in the past couple of days, and the more I thought about it the more it seemed ridiculous.

In the past couple of days I had lost two of my closest friends, and started to get all tingly when a guy I was supposed hate was around me. I had begun to turn down parties, to _obey_. That was the scariest of them all. I could handle roughing it out on my one, I didn't mind, I was strong, but somehow I was able to note that I was doing this much differently. I was beginning to change, for Sam, so that he would see me differently, but at this point I was asking myself if it was worth it. Was I truly willing to do this? What ever _this_ was.

Was I willing to change who I was for Sam, was I willing to seep into the mold that he deemed suitable? I didn't have the answer to that. Nor did I want it. For, I was almost positive I wouldn't like the answer. I was in a tumultuous state and I couldn't say I was comfortable.

My own skin felt uncomfortable, as if it were some costume I had been talked into wearing. It was different, it was _not_ normal, and most of all it wasn't _me_. However, was it just that it was different, or was it that I truly was not ready for such leaps and bounds, that made me hate what I was becoming so much?

I truly had more questions than answers, but I knew some things for certain. I knew that it made it all worth it the moment Sam looked at me, with that heart warming smile, and those secretive eyes. I knew my heart thumped wildly in my chest the moment I was with him and I knew for certain that a bundle of nerves was constantly present when I was around him.

I groaned and burrowed further into my bed at my chaotic thoughts, as if I could hide from them. This was far too much for a Wednesday morning. At the thought of today my stomach flipped and flopped, knowing I was going to be seeing Sam. I rolled my eyes, and felt severely disgusted.

Even though I could sit here and point all the fingers, I knew it wouldn't be right. But damn it felt good. There was one small thing that made me want to take a gun to my head, _I_ was making these decisions. Sam had never asked me to change, I was doing this on my own, I was the one turning down parties, and I was the one that was trying to get into his good graces via changing myself. I shook my head and knew that I may be doing this on my own, but it was all for him, and that small fact was rather unsettling.

The thing was I was contradiction with legs and arms. How was it that I found myself in a heap of a mess because of one guy that had managed to nearly isolate me entirely, and yet I did not hate him, in fact my excitement bubbled up and swam within my stomach? Once again I was running in circles, like some stupid dog chasing its own tail, and I was certain that if I didn't pay enough attention I just might end up being hit by a truck if I wasn't careful.

I shuddered at the thought, and sat up in my bed. I contorted myself into a cross-legged position, and rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands. I peeked through my warm fingers and saw that it was only eight o'clock. "Fuck my life…" I groaned, easily picking up one of Jake's sayings.

I slid out of bed, padding over to the window. I didn't know why I did this, but I somehow I hoped that maybe when I peeled back the curtains that I would see the sun. However much to my expectance my eyes were met with the pathetic sight of overcast clouds, with darker ones not too far off, who looked to be approaching quickly. It looked as though today was going to be a bad one. I sighed and turned away.

I walked over to my closet, and pulled out some dark wash jeans, with a comfortable white T-shirt and a thick black sweater. I threw it all on, picking up my brush from my bedside table before running it roughly through my hair. I frowned at a rather difficult knot and tugged until the brush once again ran smoothly. I placed the brush down on the table, and grabbed an elastic hair band, bringing it up so I could arrange my hair into a high pony-tail.

I left my room, carrying a pair of socks, and my boots in the other hand, and quickly descended the stairs. I could hear my father rattling around in the kitchen and I nearly groaned, but I held it in, fear of him hearing. Charlie had great hearing, and if he caught you, well let's just say I have mastered the art of silence around my father. It was rather odd, my dad rather preferred a silent manor to a talkative one, yet he couldn't do anything quiet.

In fact, pots were banging and clanging loudly, traveling through the house and into anyone's sensitive ears. I rolled my eyes, and entered the kitchen. I walked past my dad wordlessly, and pulled a box of Pop-tarts from the cupboard.

After heating it appropriately in the toaster I shoved it in my mouth, burning my sensitive tongue along the way, before I looked to my Dad, "Would it be alright if I went to see Quil?"

I was wiping the crumbs from my face when my dad said in a firm voice, "No." I looked at him cross eyed for a few moments, not knowing how he could possibly say no. "You are grounded." He reminded me, with a pointed look. I nearly rolled my eyes but I quickly questioned in a round about way, "He's sick. Dad, it is Quil."

Charlie looked at me, as if he could stare at me long enough to get it all out of me, I was most certain that he used this on people when he interrogated them. I just looked back, knowing he wouldn't find a reason, because I was truly going to see Quil because I was mildly worried about his condition, but more so who was with him.

My Dad nodded, like I knew he would, and I left the kitchen, letting my mom know I was leaving, closing the door before she could ask why. I was far too distracted by the urgency that that was fluttering about in my stomach, making my steps a little faster, and my strides a little longer. I finally reached Quil's home, slightly out of breath after my inadvertent power walk.

I strode up the walk way hoping, and praying that Sam wasn't there, that he wouldn't be answering the door. Needless to say, my anxiety had grown into a huge and uncontrollable monster by the time I had reached the door, and it had managed to engulf me entirely after a few short steps. I found myself on the porch, knocking lightly, and obviously someone had heard my prayers, or fate was just having an off day, and Old Quil answered the door, not Sam Uley.

I visibly relaxed, and I noted that all tension left my body the moment Old Quil's face was in my line of sight. I smiled sweetly, or sweetly as I could, I was me, after all, "Hey, how is Quil? I just came to check on him, maybe see him if that was alright."

I had know idea as to why, but at that particular moment, as soon as the phrase left my lips, a surge of panic sprouted within me and tugging on my heart. For some foreign reason, I felt as though if I didn't get to see Quil, that some how he wouldn't be there, that he was already with Sam, ignoring everybody he knew.

"Sure, Bella, come on in." Old Quil said, maneuvering out of my way so I could pass through him and the door easily. I nodded my thanks, and tore up the stairs, nearly tripping. I cursed under my breath, and sighed in relief when I reached Quil's bedroom.

There, through the small doorway, lay Quil, snoring softly. My thudding heart—whether from my hike up the stairs, or from nervousness at the though of loosing Quil—calmed slightly, and I sagged against the banister. I took a deep breath, releasing it in a relieved, but still wary sigh.

I walked towards his room, and entered quietly, knowing now that he was in a deep sleep. I smiled slightly, and could help but notice that Quil looked far better when he was asleep. Even though his skin was still shining with sweat, and his hair was still matted and stringy, he looked less tense, and worried. He face was smooth and relaxed, complete opposite to his features of last night.

I gently laid my hand over his forehead, careful not to wake him, and noted that his temperature was even worse than last night's. I shook my head, and I briefly recalled Jared and Sam's argument from last night.

I knew not to handle the information lightly. Transformation and phase, two words I knew nothing about in relation to Quil, but I knew without really knowing, that I hade stumbled across something big. Yet, I still didn't know what that something was and I was just about ready to just point blank ask Sam, and risk sounding like a crazy person.

I shook my head, and removed my hand from Quil's over heated fore head, and tried not to let my thoughts stay with my previous ones. The last thing I needed was to be sitting here, chasing my tail again. I looked around; ready to kick myself for not bringing something that I could entertain myself with. It was then that I noted the newspaper sticking out from under my chair.

I curved my body towards it; bringing my arm closer to it, and reaching it, pulling it up. I saw it was a cross word, the checkered puzzle already half done. I could only assume it to be Jared's handy work, and I decided I might as well finish it.

I examined his answers finding one that was wrong, I rolled my eyes and muttered, "Dumb-ass…" I began erasing his obtuse answer, and filling it in correctly with my neat and child-like print. I smiled proudly before moving onto the next answer.

________________

I was just filling in the last couple of words to my now corrected cross-word when I heard Quil, moaning and groaning. I looked over in concern, seeing he was still asleep, but it appeared as though the sickness was bringing him out of it, teasing him awake. I sighed, and wondered if this was as bad as it looked, if not more.

I returned to the cross-word briefly, before I heard Old Quil, "Bella?" I frowned, and got up, leaving my post. I descended the stairs, seeing Old Quil throwing on his jacket, and shoes. I scowled, and immediately knew that he was leaving. I couldn't help the fear that ebbed from my heart, at the thought of Sam possibly coming around now that he was leaving.

I rearranged my features, not displaying my scowl, swallowing my fear. "I'm just going to head out for a bit, I should be back around one. If you wouldn't mind, could you just please stay with Quil?" Old Quil asked, hand on the door knob.

"Sure. No problem, see you later." I appeased, watching as Old Quil twisted the knob, and pulled the door open before walking out. I sighed, and tried not to get myself all worked up.

Shaking my head, I took a couple of deep breaths. I had no idea as to why I was all of a sudden absolutely petrified at the thought of seeing Sam. It could have been that I was concerned for Quil, what if this was it, what if today was the day Sam was coming for him? I shook my head, this wasn't some scary movie, this was my life, and this was reality. It wasn't some corny horror flick, and if something did happen, I had options.

It could also be that I knew I would loose all resolve the moment Sam looked at me. How was I supposed to put up a fight for Quil if I was too scared to speak? I didn't think it was so much that I was 'scared' more like I was worried. Worried that I wouldn't be able to keep Quil safe, he hated Sam as much as I did—which was a lot, even now—and what kind of friend would I be if I didn't at least try and save him? My shoulders slumped, feeling the weight of my situation before I trudged up the stairs.

I reached the top, and walked into Quil's bedroom only to see Quil was awake. "Hey," I said from the doorway, leaning on it slightly. "I just came to see you, and as of now I am your babysitter, at least till one o'clock at least."

I chuckled a bit and so did Quil, I shoved off the doorway and walked over to the chair, plopping myself down once I reached it. I sat, and the room was tense with unsaid words. We both knew that this wasn't like me; never had I ever made a point of visiting when he was sick. But this time was different. I was different. Not in the goody-two-shoes kind of way, but I was actually concerned this time.

"You don't have to be here, you know, I am fine on my own." Quil offered, but as much as he hated to admit it, I knew he wanted me here. I knew he was probably just as scared as I was, and I couldn't imagine what it felt like, knowing that you were next, and not being able to one single thing about it.

I sighed, "Quil, I want to be here. If I'm not here, I'm at home. Hanging out with my parents. Do you really want to condemn me to that fate?" My tone was joking but he got my message: yes I want to be here, because I care about you and so help me God if you don't stop simpering I will hurt you.

With that he laughed slightly, and I joined in. "So, are you feeling any better?" I asked, looking at him. "Do I look any better?" Quil replied, countering my question with another question. "That bad, huh?" I replied, because he did look a little worse, not nearly better by any means.

Quil chuckled and conceded, "Yup, that bad." I nodded my head, and with a crinkled nose I remarked, "Why don't you take a shower? I'll make lunch." Quil looked at me with raised eye brows, "Bella, are you telling me I smell?"

I nodded my head, dead serious. He smelled like a locker room filled with sweaty shoes. I shuddered slightly at the smell and scene I had created in my mind, and before I could crack a joke about his terribly atrocious body odor Quil was speaking, "Lunch? As good as that sounds, I don't want to see it right after I eat it."

I laughed, and said, "How about dry toast, crackers and flat Ginger Ale?" Quil nodded and I wordlessly left to go get it together. I was half way down he stairs when I yelled, "You better get going! I am not looking after you if you smell that bad!"

Quil groaned and grumbled, "Fine! Fine!" I laughed, shaking my head, feeling more like a babysitter than a visitor. I continued my march down the stairs, and abruptly stopped when there was a knock on the door.

My heart slowed, and I could hear it thumping in my ears. I stared at the door, my hand gripping the railing far too tightly. I remained quiet and just maybe if I was lucky they would go away, conceding that no one home. I sighed, "This is silly, you don't even know if it is Sam."

Still, my heart thudded, and still my palms were slick with a cold and frightened sweat. I took a deep breath hoping it would calm my erratic heart but it did nothing. So, I tip toed over to the door, and laid my ear against the door. Who ever was on the other side was pacing slightly, or rocking back and forth on their heels. I could hear the old porch groaning against the person's weight, or movement, which ever one I wasn't sure.

I pulled away, and looked to my left. There in the nice living room, was a great big window. I stood there, trying to make my decision. There was another knock, and I silently tip toed my way over to the couch that sat just bellow the window.

I kneeled on the couch, curling myself so only the top of my head would be visible at best. I drew the curtain back slightly, peeking out, and my heart gave a frightening lurch. There, right there, was Sam Uley. In fact I think he was looking at me. What kind of creeper peeks into someone's house?! I shook my head, and with a frightening speed Sam's eyes latched onto mine, and with a yelp I fell back onto the couch. I lay down on the couch, my heart thudding even more violently in my chest.

I knew now that I had to get up, it would be highly stupid if I didn't. I began to sit up, and was pulling myself off the couch when my foot got stuck in spare blanket and I knew with absolute certainty that I was about to fall. So with a resigned acceptance, I let gravity lead the way.

I hit the floor with a sickening thud—my shoulder bearing brunt, along with my not so well padded hip—of the fall. I winced, and obviously Sam had heard my fall and I heard him ripping the door open. He made a lot of noise to travel to steps, and I nearly told him to shut the fuck up.

He stood in front of me, a small smile playing on his lip, and chuckles slipped out intermittently. I rolled my eyes, and reprimanded, "Shut the fuck up, Chuckles." Sam's guffaws grew and I my anger grew as well. I lifted myself off the floor, using the couch as a railing, before pushing past him. Just as I did last night I deliberately knocked shoulders with him, and kept on my way.

I was still mad. I was mad at him for what he had done to me, to Quil, to Jake and to Embry and Paul. I was by no means pleased with him, and he seemed to sense that as I entered the kitchen.

In a series of rough and jerky movements I had managed to pull all the things I needed from the cupboards, and had loudly set them on the counter top. Sam was still here, I could feel him watching me, the tiny spiders marched along my skin, and their invisible parades making me look up to see Sam standing in the doorway. I looked down again, and was nearly suffocated by the tension in the room.

I attempted to unscrew the cap on the tall Ginger Ale plastic bottle, but it wouldn't give. I frowned at it, visibly unhappy, and tried again. What was it with me and plastic bottles when Sam Uley was around!? I growled and tried again, still the cap remained, and I was about to really go I for the kill when Sam stopped me.

"Bella stop," Sam commanded, I jerked his hand away, and returned to my task. I was still twisting and turning the cap, and it still wasn't moving when Sam roughly grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me to face him.

I found myself encased by his strong arms, and I tried to ignore the pulsing energy that seemed to pass between our linked forms. I wiggled and squirmed and in a deathly voice I said, "Let me go you fucker! I'll scream!"

Immediately Sam let go, and I ordered, "Get the fuck out." He shook his head and I felt my mouth drop open in shock. "I said, get out." Sam replied, "No." With all the strength I had left I placed my hands firmly on his chest, noting how good this felt, and shoved. He didn't move, and I gave a sob of anguish. I wasn't crying, I was just incredibly mad, and I was on the verge of screaming.

"What is wrong? What has happened?" Sam asked, gripping my elbows this time, and I was for certain that he wasn't going to let go, even if I screamed. "You happened. You can't have him. You can't take him from me. I won't let you!" I spoke firmly, my voice clear.

Sam looked confused for a few moments, and then a look of pure understanding swept up his features. I pushed away, stumbling slightly and hitting the lower part of my back on the counter. He took a step forward, and I held my hand up, if he came any closer I was positive I would believe anything that he said, and I didn't want to.

I couldn't stand this. How he seemed to manipulate me, twisting me around, contorting me, making me tell him everything. I shook my head and ordered, "Don't come any closer."

Sam nodded and pleaded, "Listen Bella, I don't know what you heard last night, but whatever you did hear—" I scoffed, and demanded, "Yes Sam, what exactly did I hear last night? Hmm?" Sam looked wary, and but he stood still ad firmly, and I knew instantly, as his features rearranged themselves, and the hairs stood on the back of my neck, that this was the reason he gave orders.

Over the past couple of days I had grown to be comfortable around Sam, and I never felt intimidated by him like the first time, but now, I was. He looked dangerous, and I knew I had been a fool. I hadn't been in control over the past days; Sam had let me be in control. Now, though, now he was taking it back.

I stood tall, and tried not to submit. I was taken back to the diner, looking into his eyes, and in that instant on that night I knew not to submit, and I went with my gut, and here and now, I was not going to drop his gaze. Sam held my gaze, his jaw clenched and finally he spoke, in that voice he used on Jared, "Bella, what you heard last night didn't mean anything. It was a simple argument, nothing for you to be concerned about."

"Nothing for me to be concerned about?!" I exploded, and finally the words that had been frozen on my tongue for so long, thawed, and melted, "I have nothing to be worried about? You took two of my friends from me! And I know that Quil is next! You can't have him, Sam! Leave him alone. So help me God if he joins Embry and Paul, all because of you, I refuse to let you do this again!"

Sam looked to be boiling with anger, in fact he was trembling, and at this point I could have cared less, but then he yelled, in a strong and commanding voice, "I am doing this for your own good. Let him go with dignity, Isabella, this will be so much easier on you."

"For my own good? You are isolating me for my own good?" I cried indignantly, and proceeded to yell, "Let him go!? Over my dead body!" I found my chest heaving, and I was so tired right now. I was dying here, I knew I was fighting a loosing battle, but I put my hand to the plow, and I intended to finish the row, whether I liked it or not.

"It is out of my hands, you must listen to me, I am doing this for your own good, and everything will be fine." Sam ordered, using that superior voice I had grown to hate. "It is not going to be okay!" I protested. However I knew it was futile, his mind was made up, and I knew that the instant he lashed back, "This is final! Isabella, this will be so much worse on you, do not be the author of your own demise!"

I was just about to continue my argument, and maybe eve smack Sam up side the head, but I never got the chance, we were interrupted.

"Leave my house." Quil ordered from the doorway. I had never been so happy to see his gangly ass. Sam nodded, and turned away, and I could have cared less. Right now I was at war, and I didn't mind that I had possibly hurt him in some way, I was beyond that.

Quil entered after Sam had left, and we could not longer here his heavy foot falls. "You okay?" I nodded, severely rattled by my altercation with Sam, and took in a deep and shaky breath.

"How much did you hear?" I asked turning back to the soda bottle, I had never been one to display my emotions. Never had I really shown Quil just how fiercely loyal I was to him and Jake, and I didn't want this to change us. "Enough." Quil said, and he was closer now. My entire body slumped, and I tried to cringe away when Quil's hand rested on my shoulder.

Quil pulled me to him, turning me around in the process, and before I knew it I was enveloped in a very damp hug. I tried not to be too stiff, but this was far too foreign. This was uncharted territory. I sighed, and thought, 'What the hell?', before I wrapped my arms around his slightly bigger frame.

"It is going to be okay, you do realize that, right Bells?" Quil soothed, and I merely gripped him harder, and deftly nodded.

The thing was that I felt like I was in a horror flick, because no matter what, Quil was next, and Sam had confirmed that. I knew with utmost certainty that I was not going to be able to stop him, and it didn't matter what Quil or I said, or even wanted, because some thing was going to happen. Something that he and I had no choice but to let happen. Turned out fate wasn't having an off day after all.

With sadness, and a resigned acceptance and defeat, I held on impossibly tighter, and just hoped that we had more time, but some thing told me, that I was going to get hit by a truck, mid tail-chase very soon.

_________________________

Old Quil showed up shortly after that relieving me of my duties, and I slipped in one last good bye to Quil before heading home. My foot steps were heavy, weighed down by the events of the day.

I shook my head and tried not to replay the events in my head. It was too much, and I didn't know what to do. I knew that Quil was next, no matter what, he was the next victim. However I didn't know when, or how long I had with him, and that was the worst. I had know idea as to when Sam would strike, but it would happen, and I wasn't going to be able to do one thing about it.

I felt a cold and dethatched acceptance settle upon myself, and I found myself hearing Sam's words echo in my mind, as if he were whispering them into my ear now.

_Do not be the author of your own demise… Let him go with dignity, Isabella, this will be so much easier on you…_I shook my head, ceasing the echoed words. I didn't know what was worse. Not knowing when I was going to loose Quil, or just the fact that I was going to loose him in general.

I knew without having to struggle to admit it that I was truly going to miss Quil. He had been a constant in my life for a long time, and I had grown rather attached. I knew I was going to miss how he was anything but punctual, I knew I was going to miss the way he easily carried banter with me. I knew I was going to miss how awkwardly he moved in his lanky form. I was simply going to miss him, everything about him.

By the time I had finished my inner monologue I was at the walkway to my house. I quietly walked up the path, and climbed the rustic steps. I opened the door, entering just as silently as I had left. My mother was in the kitchen, and she peeked her head out and asked in a concerned manor, "How is Quil?"

I sighed and responded, "He's good, a bit worse." My mother clucked her tongue like the mother hen she was, and went back to making whatever she was making.

I went upstairs, just wanting some peace, some time away from it all. Time for me to be just me. There was no room for Sam, Quil, or even Jake for that matter as I flopped down onto my bed. I laid there for while, just staring at the ceiling, before I sat up and took my boots off.

I laid back down, and pulled my I-pod to me from my night stand table. I slipped the ear phones on, and scrolled down to Frank Sinatra. I let his pleasantly smooth voice fill my ears, and I just closed my eyes and listened. I focused on the words, the sounds, and anything but Sam Uley.

______________________

There was a slight knocking on my door, and I was utterly tempted to tell them to leave. Just leave me alone. However I knew very well that it could be my mother or my father, so with agitation hissing in my stomach I called, "Come in!"

My mother entered, looking concerned and full of questions. Questions I didn't have or want to answer. I looked away, and shifted on the bed so she could sit. My mother sat down, and softly murmured, "Are you okay? Something seems wrong."

I wanted to tell her that nothing was right ever since I came into contact with Sam Uley, and that he had seriously messed me up. However rather than saying what was on my mind I simply replied, "I am fine. Nothing to worry about."

"If it is nothing, which I don't think it is, then you should come down for dinner." My mother said, looking at me imploringly. I could either go down to dinner, or spill my guts to her. Opting for the less painful, I chose the former, and said, "Dinner sounds good."

My mom got up, and I followed her, descending the stairs. I entered the kitchen and sat down at my usual place. My mother joined me, my father following soon after. We all dug into the food, and I thought that this would be a quasi peaceful evening, no Sam, no problems.

"So, learned anything interesting from Sam?" My father asked making conversation, and I appreciated him for trying, but still the food turned to ash in my mouth, and my stomach stopped rumbling for the food. I placed my cutlery down, and swallowed the now dry food. "Not really, it's been pretty normal." I replied.

My Dad nodded, and I released a sigh of relief, knowing that the topic was finished with for the night. I continued about eating, but only for the sake of eating. I knew that if I didn't eat now, I would be extremely hungry later on, and it looked as though I was in for a long night.

After finishing I excused myself from the table and went back upstairs, my evening, or night, with Sam was fast approaching and I was willing to bet my entire life on the fact that it was going to be painful.

He had left throwing warnings at me, and I throwing my insecurities and arguments. "Fuck…" I muttered pacing across my room. It was going to be weird, it was going to be awkward, and I was going to have to deal with it.

My first night with Sam had been awkward, and tension filled at most, but some how, in the end at least, we had managed to maintain a mutual balance. Things had been easy, simple, and now, now they were more fucked up than I was at this point. I shook my head, and picked up my I-pod again, escaping, leaving this all behind.

My down time was much to short and before I could even utter a single word of complaint, there was a loud knock on the front door. I got off the bed and went over to my window, and sure enough there sat Sam's cruiser, I had begun to detest the vehicle.

A normal and polite person would go down stairs to greet their guest, but he wasn't a guest he was an invader, an asshole. Even more so I probably should have been descending the stairs already but I couldn't bring myself to even want to go down stairs out of etiquette. Since when had I been one for politeness? Never, and I sure as hell wasn't going to start now.

However, my Dad, apparently thought it to be necessary, and I heard him hollering, "Bella! Time to go!" I was tempted to ask why, but I knew I would be setting myself up for a long winded lecture upon how lucky I was that Sam was willing to cart me around all night. So with a mind set on surviving this evening, sanity intact, I descended the stairs after exiting my room.

Once again Sam stood in my doorway, but this time he didn't look warm and inviting, or even neutral like he had the first night, this time, he looked serious, deadly, and most of all, in control.

I would be a liar if I said my heart didn't start to beat frantically, and my palms get all sweaty, and a series of unwelcome butterflies set up camp in my churning stomach. They did, and in doing so they reminded me about how fucked up this shit was, and I was sorely tempted to flee to the safety of my bedroom. However I wasn't a coward, I was many things, but I was never one of those, so with my head held high, and my heart sitting with my toes, I said good bye to my parents.

I walked out into the cool night, clenching my satchel tight, and followed Sam's hulking form. We entered the car, and if it were possible the tension was enough to choke a horse. I nearly laughed but decided not to, not wanting to look crazier than I already was.

I could survive this, I knew I could, I had to. For Quil. For Jake. Most of all, just so I could tell Sam fucking Uley to take all his mind games, and shit, and tell him to shove it where the sun don't shine.

**A/N: Whew…that was intense. As you can all see Bella is treading in quick sand, and is having quite the hard time mastering her control over the situation. I feel kind of bad that I am leaving you with this contorted and twisted Bella, but I promise it is all worth it in the end. **

**I really hoped you guys liked it. If you did let me know please, if you have any suggestions they are more than welcome. So yeah, review please!**

**Play list**

**I think I'm paranoid—Garbage**

**The tide is high—Blondie**

**I wanna be sedated—Ramones **

**War—Edwin Starr**

**I hate everything about you—Three Days Grace**

**Yeah…let me know what you guys think, and I will try and update quicker. **

**Review please, and I really hoped you all enjoyed it. **


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Okay I would just like to say another thank you, reviews have been kick ass. However there are a lot of questions floating around, and I have taken it upon myself to answer them. **

**VITAL INFO—READ!**

**Okay one had been:**

**Did Sam imprint on Bella?**

**I believe in my first Author's Note I mentioned an itty-bitty fact…nothing you guys should have paid attention to (can you hear the sarcasm dripping off my words?)…ha ha…sorry don't mean to be rude but I couldn't resist. Anyway I DID say in the very first author's note that this was a Bella/Sam IMPRINT story. SO to all you guys asking me, has Sam imprinted on Bella? There is the answer. It was in the first note too. But we will let that slide. **

**Okay, a lot of people have been asking why Sam is being SO mean…**

**Ladies, or erm, boys that could be reading my story, Sam, our darling, smexy Sam, has not been too bad up until recently. However for those of you who have been reading and thinking, he is such an ass, well I will explain. **

**Sam is just being who he is. In case you have forgotten, he is ALPHA. As in always control. Always in power, as in he is the leader and he will say when to go. Also he is Sam, and he can't really tell Bella why he has suddenly started persuading all her friends to join the dark side. It wouldn't make any sense. **

**Another question that has been quite frequent is why hasn't Sam told Bella about their little connection?**

**Well, someone mentioned that they cannot survive without their imprint, which is true, but Sammy-boy was smart. He hasn't told Bella what has happened, but he HAS managed to keep her with him constantly, and he is always around in case you all haven't noticed. So Sam is surviving, he does not need to be intimately or romantically involved, he just needs to be around her. **

**Little follow up on imprinting—an imprint can be whatever the actually imprint-e needs it to be. An imprint can be a friend, a dependable asset, a boyfriend, a lover, or just be. It is not at all needed for romance. But sit tight ladies, and gentleman, there will be romance. **

**Oh, and please be forgiving, it is Sam. It will all come full circle, pack's honor—giggle—and so yeah stick with me. It is all going to be worth the angst. Just wait and see.**

**Disclaimer—I don't own anything. It is all goes to the marvelous S.M.**

**Chapter Seven: WTF? I have now idea how this happened. **

It was extremely hard to breathe. The tension seemed to have wrapped itself around my throat in a slithery noose that clung to me in a lethal way. In other words I was ready to risk jumping out of this car just for the sake of my sanity, for the sake of being able to look myself in the eye tomorrow. For I surely couldn't knowing I had just killed Sam Uley. Okay, so I didn't kill Sam, but I honestly felt capable at this precise moment.

My gaze involuntarily swiveled towards the bane of my existence at the thought of him, and much to my disappointment my heart did this weird flutter thing, and I briefly wondered if it knew just how much I hated Sam. It probably didn't, or it wouldn't be jumping all over the place right now.

Sam was still as handsome as ever, with his pouty lips and strong jaw. His mop of hair was falling into his eyes, as if his hair also, like me, wanted to know what secrets he kept there. I sighed, and tried to not identify with how prissy I sounded.

I continued to stare ahead, and was observing the scenery that was the same each and every time I drove by. The trees were the same, standing tall and proudly, and ugly as ever. The air was just as moist, and as if weren't damp enough, a drop of rain landed on the car, right in my line of sight.

Sometimes I wonder if God, fate, or whoever the fuck is in charge, just likes to fuck with me. I must have missed the memo letting me know my life was going to shit. I inwardly sighed, and tried not to focus on the tense and crackling energy that filled the car.

I was positive that I was not going to be the first to crack. If he wanted to sit here and be all moody that was fine, because if we really got down to the technicalities I refused to be held responsible for whatever I let slip this evening. For if he pushed me, so help me God he was asking for me to just go over and fucking smack him.

I felt the little pricks on my skin, and I stiffened in my seat knowing he was looking at me. I felt a sneer grace my lips, but I quickly wiped it away, rearranging my features so that he didn't know he affected me. However he caught it, and I felt the little tiny army of spiders at my temple, and I knew instantly that he was observing my face, seeing what I would do.

Much to my sever disappointment, I was the first to crack, but I had been provoked.

"What?" I snapped, whipping my head to left so quickly that I suffered some pain in my neck, but it was worth it to see the look on his face.

Sam looked like a dear caught in the headlights, and immediately I wished I had a car to run him over with. I smirked, and righted myself, looking ahead again.

If it were possible the tension in the air grew thicker. It was now still in the car, lightly churning, and making me wish I had stayed silent. However it was worth it, just to see what his reaction was. I smug smile played on my lips, and I was able to maintain it for a while until I found myself wrestling with the tension.

It was still there, the tension that is, which was at this point no more pleasing than an overweight gorilla that smelled, weighing the entire evening down. I drummed my fingers over my bag, the sound of my tips hitting the thick fabric of my bag less than audible.

I knew that the evening was eventually going to reach its breaking point. It was as unavoidable as the ever constant rain on this god forsaken piece of land. I sighed and looked out my window, not knowing what to do.

As much as I hated this pure sense of tension, painful, unbearably so, was tiring. I was at loss on the best way to proceed. I knew I would not being talking to Sam; well not if I could help it.

It was in that small moment, that silent moment, which I truly learned what it felt like to be tempted. I was withholding my desire to talk to Sam, and I fully admit, that even in this absolutely uncontrollable anger, that I was more than tempted to just talk to him. It was simply irresistible. However, I knew I couldn't talk to him. I knew I couldn't, I had every reason not to. Then why, why, was it that I was nervous at our silence? What was happening that I was feeling as though it was abnormal, wrong even, that I wasn't talking to Sam? I was confused, and had this fleeting thought that something was toying with me.

I sighed, and pulled my bag up onto my lap. The rustling of fabric sounded like a bomb going off in my ears. It was quiet, and I felt as though everything could be heard. I shook my head, and fished my notebook out the abyss like bag.

I flipped it open, skipping past all the notes I had written, and found my list of questions. I stroked them reverently, remembering when I had drawn them up. Then, when I had been writing them, I had thought that I would be victorious and have answers, but I was wrong. I had no answers, and Sam had them all.

I quickly flipped the page, and pulled the sole pen I had from my bag, ready to put it to use on my blank canvas. I let my head fall forward, swinging my hair to cover myself, virtually blocking Sam's view of everything I may or may not write due to the way I was hunched over.

Sighing I began to write, documenting it all, keeping track. I somehow thought that maybe, if I wrote it down, if I could actually see it, that maybe, just maybe, I would be able to figure this out.

I drew a question mark, running my pen in the same shape multiple times. By the time my lovely punctuation mark was finished, it stood out, obnoxiously so—in its big and bold print. I drew a line out from the question mark, and proceeded to write what I knew.

_He growls._

I drew another line.

_He took Embry and Paul._

I roughly scrawled, at this point, and was getting angrier and angrier with each and every written clue. However what did all these clues mean?

_Whatever he was, he was the leader of his group, and whatever he was. _

Immediately, the scenes in which I had come into direct contact with Sam flashed before my eyes. I could almost feel the burn, that sizzling energy that seemed to pass between us.

_He is hot, too hot, his temperature is abnormal._

I wondered at this mannerism, was it possible from someone to quake in such away? All as a result of the over powering anger?

_He trembles, but only when he is angry. _

This I knew, I had been on the receiving end of his wrath, and I knew it didn't take much to tease his temper.

_His temper is quick. _

His voice echoed in my ears, hearing the way he had talked to Jared just the other night. The way he had said it, in a controlling, and oppressing manor. I shuddered slightly, and continued with my list.

_He is controlling, almost frighteningly so. _

Again my thoughts brought up Jared, and more importantly, my less than relaxed altercation with Sam in Quil's kitchen. He was so sure that he was right. I shook my head, and moved to the next line.

_He knew Quil was next. _

This little note just proved that Sam was the ring master to this crazy circus. One that seemed to draw me in more and more with every simple incident.

_He was always around me. _

This was the creepiest of them all. For it was true, he was everywhere. All the time. Any place that I was, he was, and he was subtle as an avalanche in being a stalker.

_He was strong, not in a normal way either, as if he was above a typical nineteen year old. Steroids were out of the picture. I knew that. _

Part of me thought it was cool how strong he was at first, but the more I thought of it, the more abnormal it was. I mean, he had lifted me as if I were nothing the night he arrested me. How was that normal for a nineteen year old?

But I couldn't deny it. He had a hat body. One I would like to see.

_He eats a lot, almost too much for his size. _

This was the thing I picked up on at the diner. I mean, how did he have that amazingly goegeous body and eat that much? It just didn't make sense. To me at least.

_He was always trying to make me understand, trying to reason with me. _

I was suspicious of this. He almost seemed like he was trying to butter me up, to prepare me for something. I didn't know what, or why Sam felt the need to do this, but I didn't like it at all. It made me want to scream and ask why, why?

_He was constantly trying to persuade me to believe him. _

He was relentless. I couldn't deny it. Or he was incredibly dense. For, no matter how many times I abused him, or made fun of him, Sam was always back and ready for the next blow.

_He was relentless._

This one was obvious. I mean, who gets jealous over a past crush? I didn't know, but I bet it was Sam Uley. He was possessive, after all.

_He was possessive. _

I stared at my notes, and inwardly snorted. This had gotten me nowhere. Based on my cryptic, and extremely vague, yet highly specific notes Sam was an odd man. Sam was a man who growled, suffered from severe anger, which led him to be possessive, relentless, controlling and manipulative.

I was still examining my notes, when I got the feeling I always get when Sam feels the need to look at me like I am some foreign object. I glanced up, careful to obscure his view from my notes, and saw that yes, Sam was looking at me, _again_.

I scowled and slammed my note book shut, wordlessly looking out the window. I observed the scenery, and noted how slow we were going. I wondered if Sam felt it necessary to go at this put-put-put pace all night, all the time. I mean he was nine teen, not eighty. I felt like making a comment, but then refrained, my situation rushing bake to me so it could stop me from breaking the tense and strained silence.

I knew I had been spacing out, when I saw that we were coming back down my street. We passed Quil and Jake's houses, and I looked to Sam for a moment before looking forward. Instantly I knew where we were headed, we were going to the boarder.

The one that I had crossed one too many times, the one that I snuck booze across. The one that reminded me of it all, who I was, what I was, it reminded it of myself.

Immediately I felt the sense of panic curl around my heart, tightening with each frantic beat of my heart. My palms felt even sweatier, and I hastily wiped them on my legs, hoping to wipe it away, to get rid of it, of the panic. Suddenly this all felt to personal, too real. This simple line that I had crossed so many times had been so many things.

I shook my head as the memories danced across my closed lids. All the times Jake, Quil and I had crossed it. Our drinks sloshing around, rattling in the bags we carried them across and into La push. Our laughter, our smiles, all seemed so loud and bright in my mind, and I missed it terribly so.

I missed my life before Sam. Before the mysteries. The secrets. I missed being the drunken girl hanging out with her friends. I missed the simplicity of our evenings. I knew it was a sham, I was deciding that what I had been doing had been right. However it hadn't, now I saw that. Looking back on it retrospectively I knew that I hadn't been right. I had been wrong, so very wrong.

I didn't think the drinking was the problem, it was that I did it so much, and how I had taken these inappropriate risks. Time and time again I had jeopardized my future, and more importantly my ticket out of here. At the same time I knew that it was for the better if I didn't go out drinking as if there were no tomorrow. I was going to kill my liver if had continued the way I had been going, however now that I thought about it, a bad liver was better than being stuck around Sam.

It may have been a slight exaggeration, but, I honestly was just clawing to get out of this situation. I smirked, but my sarcastic mirth slipped away the moment the boarder became visible.

It wasn't the tall vegetation that made me wan to leap from the car, no. It wasn't that my previous thoughts intensified immensely just as the boarder came into to site. No, it wasn't that old sign that read 'La Push' hung just to the right that mocked me with its cheery script, no it wasn't any of those common features. It was the form that was stumbling across the boarder that made my heart sit at my toes, and sit at the back of my throat all at the same time.

There, right there, was my best friend Jake. I shook my head, and instantly knew that I would be with him right now if it weren't for Sam. I would be the one, just like Jake, stumbling into La push at nine o'clock. The night was still early and I knew, just by looking at him that he had gotten smashed with a purpose.

Jake, for as long as we had been drinking together, I knew him to be a guy to pace himself. He knew when to stop, when to keep going, and in other words he just knew his boundaries. He had never been a light-weight; Quil was that amongst the three of us. I smirked again, and it was just as short lived.

For now, now, we were closer, much closer, and before I could say anything remotely mind boggling that would stop Sam from stopping the car and arresting Jake. My panic was overwhelming now, and before I could voice it we had pulled over and Sam had left the car.

I hopped out, and I didn't think Sam had noticed, and I just thanked all things that were holy and remotely giving.

Sam was closer to Jake now, and with energy that I didn't know I had possessed, I ran. I ran straight for Jake, because no matter what I would always be there for him. Above all else, I knew that my loyalty was genuine. For no matter what happened and who messed with me, I knew that as long as I could, I would be there for Jake, and Quil, if he was still around.

Screw Sam and his fucked up mind games. Screw him and his cult. He can take it all and shove it.

I had reached Jake now, and I heard Sam's heavy foot falls, and his deep baritone voice chasing me. Always chasing. I sighed, and stood in front of Jake who had yet to notice Sam's presence, but he was clearly happy to see me:

"Bells!" Jake slurred, rather loudly if I might add. My face reddened, and I didn't know why. I had never been embarrassed around Jake when he had been drunk, but then again, I had always been drunk too, so I couldn't really afford to be embarrassed. I shook my head, and edged a bit closer.

"Shut! Up!" I hissed, glancing back to see Sam, edging closer little by little, I held up a finger, telling him to back the fuck up. I knew that if Jake didn't cooperate with me, which he never did when he was drunk off his ass, I knew Sam was going to take him down to the station, and I knew that this time Jake would not be coming back.

"Why?" Came the inevitable question from Jake, bringing me out of my thoughts. I shook my head, and got closer so that I was really close to him now, so much so that the aroma of beer and I am pretty sure Mary Jane, was present, I scowled and lowly said, "Why aren't you on your shift with Eli?"

Jake snorted, and replied with an inappropriate amount of enthusiasm, "Eli got sick! Food poisoning…I think!" I shook my head and interrogated him further.

"Damn it! Jake! C'mon, why tonight? Why are you so smashed?" My voice was angry, and themes of puzzlement were running through it.

Over all Jake was a relatively simple guy, despite his past. He had always been easy for me to dissect, easy to figure out. He was like the Jumbles that were in the news paper. You know all the letters are messed up and completely out of order, but if you looked hard enough you could find reason. You could find the word. I shook my head, and instantly knew, without a question, that Jake had gotten this drunk for a good reason, or a reason that warranted such amounts of alcohol consumption.

"Because." Jake replied, and it took me and all of myself control not to punch him. Or kick him in the balls. Right in the gonads. Which ever came first. Jake knew this answer would piss me off, his smirk was more than enough evidence, and with a deadly voice I warned, dragging his name out, "Jake…"

"You weren't there." Jake mumbled, slightly pathetic, but the moment his words filtered into my ears, I yelled, "Fuck!"

It was August the twenty sixth. To everybody else that was just another day lost. Another day closer to school. However it wasn't just, something to Jake. It was the day he lost the most important woman in his life. The day he lost his Mom. The day his Dad lost a wife. The day we lost a valued member of out community.

Most had forgotten about her. But I hadn't. Jake hadn't. That was all that mattered. Jake cared, I cared, and I now knew why he was so smashed.

"Oh, Jake…" I sighed, and I felt tired. So tired of being pulled between my two worlds. Between Sam, who I thought I should be, who Jake needed me to be.

I stepped forward, and said, "Okay, we are going to take you home—" I was rudely interrupted by Sam Uley. I looked at him incredulously as he spoke, "No, actually we will be taking you down to the station."

I shook my head and said firmly, "Wait, just a fucking minute, and excuse me while I say this: we are taking him home. Where he needs to be." Sam shook his head, and went to step around me, but my hand shot out, almost out of its own volition and stopped him, firmly planting it on his nice and firm pectoral.

I nearly pulled it back, the blazing heat a little too much too soon, but I refrained, and held still. "Sam, c'mon, just take him home. Please."

"I don't wanna go home!" Jake whined, and I whipped around, and through gritted teeth I said, "Yes you do." Jake was silent, and he looked away, but before I could even relax Sam was back, and I truly believed he thought Jake was spending the night at the station.

"Bella, get out of the way. We are taking him in." The way Sam said _we_, was so traitorous. I felt traitorous. As if I was on Sam's side now. As if I understood him. However I didn't, and I really didn't even want to consider understanding him. I shook my head, and screeched out in my frustration:

"It the anniversary of his mother's death! Can't you just let it go? Let him go home! Where he should be, with his father! With his sisters!" I highly doubted that even if I managed to swing this that Jake would be spending the evening with his family. However I was pulling all the stops out. I was just hoping Sam would let it go. If he really understood this, he would let him go.

I didn't think he did for he said firmly, "No." I stood there gob smacked, and utterly disgusted. Disgusted with him, with it all. I yelled, "Is there no exceptions with you? No room for mercy? Christ Sam! Not everyone is a common criminal waiting to be arrested! This is ridiculous, they have a story, a reason! I have a reason! Jake has a reason! Can't you see that?"

Obviously Sam didn't see it. Or even want to see it, because if he had he wouldn't be trying to work around me right now. I stopped him again, this time with two hands whilst yelling, "Sam! Please! Just let it go, for me, if you do this for me, you have an 'I owe you', please just do this!"

Sam stopped, and took a step back. Seemingly shocked that I had abused his fascination with me. I knew, after the past couple of weeks, that Sam must have had some reason for doing all of this. I didn't know if it was attraction, or something, but whatever it was, must have been a fraction of what it was to me, and if that were true, Sam would do this. I just hoped and prayed, that this would work.

MY hoped were ripped to shreds when Sam walked around me and got real close to Jacob, who looked to be somewhere between scared shitless and stupidly confident. I, and my shoulders slumped, as Sam stood in front of Jake.

"If you ever, ever abuse my generosity like this again ,kid, I can and will have you spend the night at the station. However you are lucky tonight, because she just saved your ass," He said jerking a thumb in my direction. "So consider yourself safe. Don't let me me catch you again."

Sam turned to me, and gave me this weird nod thing. I almost felt bad for making him turn on his book like that. However, it was oddly satisfying to exercise my power. I could go all Darth Vader on him, but I decided I would save that for another time. I smirked, and watched as Jake gave a mock salute to Sam's back. I scowled and ushered him into the car.

___

Needless to say the intensity of the tension once we were in the car was more painful when we were all in the car.

There was Sam, silently brooding over what he had just done. Probably less then thrilled he just had defeated the sole purpose of his life: going by the book.

Then there was me. Caught right in the middle between my two contrasting worlds.

Then, last and certainly the least, was Jake. Who was slurring his words, and being out right annoying. However I was used to that. I didn't think Sam was though.

Sam was grinding his teeth together so loudly I thought his mouth was filled with sand. The loud sounds made me want to laugh hysterically. For this was absolutely hilarious in my eyes at least. Sam was being punished for being such an ass. Thank you, Karma!

I chuckled inwardly and tried to keep the satisfied smile off my face. I didn't think I succeeded, but I didn't really care at this point.

Things got really interesting when Jacob stopped talking abruptly. His babbling muses that made me want to pull out the duct tape were cut off, and he was silent. Instantly I knew what was going to happen.

"Pull over!" I yelled frantically, looking behind me at Jake who looked paler than usual. "What? Why?" Sam asked confused by my silent intuition. I groaned and said, "Just do it!"

Sam proceeded to follow instructions and he pulled over. I sighed slightly before jumping out and running over to Jake's closest door. I yanked it open, and Jake moaned, "I don't feel so good, Bella."

I nodded, and said, "You shouldn't have drank that much." Jacob said nothing, and by now Sam had joined us. I took a step back as Jake heaved a little, and much to my horror, spewed everything that he had consumed this evening.

"Not in the car! Not in the car you fucking idiot!" Sam scorned, and I looked at him dazed. Sam Uley had just sworn. And it was fucking hot. Before I could say anything, Jake moaned and groaned and asked, "Did I do good Bella?"

I looked around, and laughed, because yes, yes he had. He had just puked in Sam's car. Jake had always been a puke-r, and I had always been the one to clean it up, or made sure he got in it the toilet. And each and every time Jake would always ask the same question. By his five word query he wanted to know if he had puked in the right place, most of the time was if he had gotten it in the toilet, but today he had done it so wrong, but so right.

I guffawed at this at said, "You got it right Jake! So right!" Although I knew that Sam was not pleased the look on his face was rather comical. He was so mad, and I looked at him, and bumped shoulders with him. "C'mon, you know you want to laugh." I said, with a huge smile.

For a moment I actually thought that Sam didn't know what it mean to just 'laugh it off' but he did. His deep rumbling laugh seemed loud here, in the quiet night, and it was a nice manly laugh that I wouldn't mind hearing again. I shook my head through my laughter, and decided to focus on here and now, and not to worry about something that hasn't happened yet.

I looked around and saw that we were close to Jake's house, and that made me laugh all the more. If he could have held for just a couple of more moments he would have been able to puke outside, or even in the toilet.

Jake looked up at this point, a cheeky smile in place, and he stood up. "I wanna go home." Jake sake said, and I sighed, before taking his form and guiding him in the direction of his house.

A couple of stumbles and one too many shared stories, or confessions, Jake was home. We were standing on the porch, and that's when Rachel roughly pulled the door open, her eyes fixing me with a scathing glare.

I rolled my own in response and supplied, "This was all him. I didn't have anything to do with this time. If you haven't noticed I am sober, I just found him, so lay off Rachel."

Rachel gave a curt not and took my place, bringing Jake into the house. For the longest time, Rachel had never liked me. I bet she thought I was a bad influence on her Jake, her little baby brother, but I knew better, so rather than taking it up with her, I decided a while back to let her think whatever she wanted.

I jogged away from the house and found Sam attempting to clean up Jake's spewed contents, I didn't offer to help for a reason, and well, if we were being honest, I just wanted to see what he would do.

A couple of profanities slipped form Sam's mouth as he cleaned, profanities my ears were quick to pick up and store away. I smirked and was a little disappointed when Sam finished with a firm, "There."

We got into the car, and the smell of puke permeated the air, so Sam rolled down the windows, allowing the moist air fill the car. I couldn't help but notice that the car was a little lighter. The tension wasn't so thick anymore; he seemed to have dissipated slightly. I sighed and rested my eyes.

__

Through the black canvas of my closed eye lids I heard, "Bella?" I frowned, and realized I must have fallen asleep, and now I just wanted my mom, or whoever to leave me alone. "Go away…" I grumbled, feeling my face slip into a frown.

I was shaken then, and the scalding heat I felt shocked me into awareness. My eyes snapped open and I saw that Sam was crouched in front of me. My car door was open, and Sam, the beast of a man, was filling its spot. I scowled than and in a rather unpleasant tone, I snapped, "Yes?"

Sam chuckled. "Aren't you just precious?" I smiled cheekily, and appeased, "Yup." Sam shook his head in response before saying, "You know how you said you owe me?"

A brick formed in my stomach, and I regretted ever bailing Jake out with that offer. I deftly nodded, and tried to feel so nauseas. "Well," Sam continued, looking nervous. "My 'I owe you' is that I want to take you out on a date. So, I was wondering what day would be good for you."

My tongue seemed like this huge object I couldn't talk around, and I seemed to be frozen in my place.

Sam wants me, of all people, to go on a date, with him. Hah. But I did say I owed him, and why, why, did he pick this? I shook my head quickly and Sam said, "Bella, please, you owe me, c'mon, Bella."

"You really are turning out to be a crooked cop you know that? First letting a criminal go, and now, blackmail?" I joked, avoiding answering his request. Sam looked upset, and slightly offended, and with a clenched jaw he stood and slammed my door shut.

Guilt quickly replaced fear, and when Sam sat down in his seat, mere inches from me, I blurted, "Fine! I'll go on a date with you!"

Sam looked at me with a shit eating grin, and mine, was well, mine was a grimace. Not that he cared though for he was already smiling as if I had just kissed him. Or told him that we no longer resided in the wettest place ever.

I was going on a date with Sam Uley.

The bane of my existence.

What the fuck had I just done?

And more importantly, how the fuck did I let this happen?

**A/N: Oh! Suspense…you all read correctly, yes, yes, Bella is going to spending the evening with Sam! On a date—is anyone as excited as I am? *Giggles* Anyway, yeah, you're welcome. I thought we all needed this, so, I thought that I would be nice and give you all this little Bella and Sam gift. **

**So what did you guys think? Let me know and please, please, please, for the love of sexy Sam, review! Please? **

**So the playlist is:**

**Sick Muse—Metric**

**Celebrity Skin—Hole**

**Gimme Sympathy—Metric**

**Falling Slowly—Once (off the sound track)**

**Twilight Galaxy—Metric**

**So yeah review. Please. It is so appreciated. Especially the feed back, feel free to share kids! I really like to hear why y'all have to say. So yeah, review!!!**

**Click that box…you know you want to. If you don't I won't be so eager to update. Anyway, review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Jeebers! The response I got from y'all on the last chapter was absolutely awesome. I am soo thankful, it is not even funny. Okay, maybe it is a little funny. I suppose you look kind of stupid when you are constantly grinning like you know Sam Uley's phone number. Or Robert Pattinson's. Which ever. Both would make me smile. A lot. Anyway, before I get my key board all wet by drooling at the thought of these two smexy men, I would just like to give y'all a warning. Sadly, the date between Sam and Bella will not take place until the next chapter. This would be Chapter Nine. However this chapter is just as important. A lot of shit goes down. I mean a lot. Like so much that it will blow your freaking minds. Joking! Or am I? Seriously though, this is a big chapter. So sit tight and well you know…do your thang, and read. And review. **

**So yeah, I hope you enjoy this and please let me know if you do. **

**Disclaimer: It all goes to S.M—No copyright infringement intended. **

**Chapter Eight: They call one a lonely number for a reason. I hate the number one. **

My date with Sam hung over my head like a death sentence. As if I had to cram every last thing into my life, almost like a bucket list, because for surely I will not be surviving this date. However, what was more upsetting was that Sam, the idiot located to my left, popped his proposal only moments ago. Even when I agreed, I did it with dread. And now, sitting next to him, despair and a strong sense of doom had settled over me. I almost felt the strings tightening around my wrists, almost chaining them together, guiding me—careless and indifferent to what I wanted.

Even though the tension had slackened, and relaxed noticeably, the silence was just as awkward. I could practically taste the awkward air, and let me tell you one thing; it did not taste good, by any means.

I sighed, and slumped further down in my seat, wishing that I could rewind the past hour. In just an hour I had managed to save Jake, and land myself in an entirely new and equally horrific situation. I couldn't believe I had done this. All for the sake of Jake.

Jacob. My heart lurched. My stomach flipped, flopped and settled again. I rubbed my sweaty palms on my jeans. I somehow felt at fault. Maybe, just, maybe, if I had been with him we wouldn't be going through this. Maybe he wouldn't have gotten so drunk. Maybe Sam wouldn't have caught him. Maybe I wouldn't be here.

If I had been smart that night, I wouldn't be here. I wouldn't be sitting with Sam. I wouldn't be blaming myself for my friend's folly. I would have been ignorant, blissfully unaware and completely happy.

It all goes back to that god forsaken night. The night where all hell broke loose. The night Sam Uley ensnared me, and my free will. It wasn't so much my free will, but just me. Who I was. Who I knew I was. Who I thought I was.

Before that night I knew who I was, who I wanted to be. I knew my place. I knew it all. However, now, now with him, I felt grossly stupid. Stupid for thinking I had it all planned out. That I had him all planned out.

Before these couple of days I thought I had known who Sam Uley was. Inside and out, when I hadn't even shared a proper exchange, or even a conversation with him. But that was the point, I just knew. I knew that Sam meant trouble. It wasn't like I had some corny female intuition moment, like the ones you hear girls talking about, or people in general discussing, I just thought or rather felt, that anyone who took two of my friends away couldn't be good.

However I was wrong, because in some warped and alienated way, Sam was _good_. I knew it sounded stupid. Here I had completely butchered and slandered his entire character and being, but if I looked at it from a different perspective, Sam was a good guy.

Sam, had gone to La Push High School, just like everyone else on the reservation, but he had been a good guy. He had made all the sports team up until grade eleven. Then, he abruptly stopped trying out, or even considering joining a team, and no one knew why. Mind you, I was in grade nine at the time, and only gathered this information from Jacob's older sisters when they gave Jake and I a ride home from school. I remember it had been big and completely frowned upon by the school. That's when Sam became the social pariah. Not a pariah per say, but he definitely lost his status amongst the 'in' crowd.

I kind of felt bad for him; he had to finish his high school career completely alone. I knew there was a difference between being _alone_, and being _lonely_, and I couldn't help but wonder if Sam felt lonely. I highly doubted it, but it would be hard to avoid, I mean, one moment you're at the center of it all, and then, the next, you're an outsider looking in.

However, Sam carried it all out. He never got mad at anyone. He just kept on, as if he hadn't ditched everything that had mattered to him. As if his friends didn't talk to him any more. As if he didn't know about, or even feel, the stares he got. As if he didn't hear the rumors that they made up for the sole purpose of satiating their own selfish queries, knowing that it would reflect poorly on Sam's character, and overall reputation.

He graduated with honors, like Rachel and Rebecca, and didn't leave La Push. While all his friends, or classmates, including Jake's sisters, left the crappy La Push nest, Sam stayed. Sam _stayed_. Willingly.

Sam remained in La Push, choosing to enter the police academy fresh out of high school. I understood it, but one thing bothered me. I indentify that some people actually _like_ La Push, as weird as that sounds, people did. However, Sam was, well is, young, and obviously intelligent, why would he want to throw it all away, and waste his time here? Why would he turn down a shot at an extended education, so that he may leave? I thought it to be odd, and before now, I had just chalked it up to him being stupid, yet again, and staying in La Push. However, here and now, I couldn't help by wonder if maybe he wasn't staying here by choice, maybe whatever was wrong with him held him here. I didn't know. But I was sure as hell slightly, if not more than curious, to know why he was _still_ here.

I looked over at Sam, who was still driving at his put-put-put pace, and as I did he had never looked more foreign, more like a mystery ever before. With my mind doing cart wheels, busting out and around at these new questions, I now knew just how little I knew about him. He was a complete alien to me. A stranger even if we were pushing it, and I had never wanted to get to know another human being more than I did Sam.

I pulled my eyes away, looking straight ahead, and thinking, out of sight out of mind. Maybe if I couldn't see Sam, my universe and all my thoughts wouldn't revolve around him. I was just hoping. Hoping that I could stop thinking about him. Hoping that this would make sense soon. Hoping that I would stop feeling this magnetic pull whenever I was around him.

But that was the thing. I was just hoping. And hoping is about as reliable as Quil, and that was saying something. I smirked a bit, and soon my mind was ready to dissect Quil, and move on from the rather entertaining Sam Uley.

Quil, I internally sighed, how much time did we have left?

I felt like I was loosing him to the reaper, not Sam, but as sad as it was, that moment Sam got a hold of Quil, it was just about as firm as death. Despair, and anger, slithered into my heart, poisoning it, tainting the hope. It felt like my vigorously beating heart was wrapped with barbed wire and each and every time it heaved an angry and desperate thump the noose tightened, making my heart beat even more so angrily, and bring a painful sting to the back of my eyes.

It was then, in that moment, as I was trying to swallow around the thump in the back of my throat that I realized just how much I valued Quil. Not in some weird way, but in a friendship kind of way. I would miss his company. His goofy laugh, and tall lanky, and albeit awkward form. I would miss the way he bickered with me. Or the way he would make me wait. Or the way he was always quick to help me, make me laugh, make me better.

I sighed, and it was a watery sigh, one that told anyone that heard it, just how sad its owner was. So, I was not at all surprised when Sam asked, "You alright, Bella?"

A huge wave of guilt crashed over me then. Sam, who I had dragged through the mud, slandered, and beat down, was still just as caring and nice. Who was just as sweet, and kind hearted as ever, even though I had on more than one occasion abused.

I looked at him, the stinging on the back of my eyes even more painful as I kept my weak tears at bay. That's what they were, pure weakness. He couldn't know that I was angry at him with a red hot passion that I had never felt, yet as quick as that blazing fire came, a cool sense of ease came too. This duel contradicting balance I had created was troubling in simple terms.

As much as I liked to think I hated Sam, I knew deep down, that there was a reason why my heart tingled when I saw him, and butter flies flapped their wings in my stomach when I was near him, and there was a reason why my hands seemed to shake after I had touched him. There was a reason, and surely it wasn't hate.

So with all the certainty I owned, or had in my measly frame, I said, "No." My voice was small, and pitiful if I were being honest. I knew I was taking a leap here, one I was not ready for, but God, I was just too far gone for this. I was past caring what he thought of me. What anyone thought of me.

I just wanted it all to go away. Or resolve itself. I wanted to go back to being my old self before Sam Uley, but at the same time I wanted to a new girl. A girl right for Sam. But I couldn't be her. Because surely Sam couldn't want me, of all people.

He couldn't want a girl who was brash and crude and harsh and mean and anything that I am.

It was too much then, and much to my sickening horror a tear filtered into my eye, welling up and blurring my vision. My own rejection stung, and suddenly I wished I wasn't me. I wish I could be better for Sam, but I knew I couldn't and wouldn't change. It would be far too much, and I truly at the same time didn't want to be that girl.

I sighed, and gave a forced and tight lipped smile to Sam, who watched my inner battle with wide scared eyes. I think he knew that something big had just happened, and he had know idea what exactly it was. I inwardly chuckled at that, and pulled my eyes away from his probing ones.

I frowned slightly, and felt angry at myself. Why had I let such an emotion control me? Why had I let this happen? I had never been the weak and pathetic girl to mull her feeling over a tub of ice cream, and cry her eyes out, so why was I starting now? Why would I waste seventeen years? I shook my head, and steeled my spine, vowing to never get lost in the depressing abyss of emotional turmoil.

I bowed my head, and instantly knew I was back to being myself again, which meant no sensitive girly moments, only me on my own now, with my crude comments and piss poor vocabulary.

Sam had obviously sensed my emotionally stressed state and felt the need to analyze it. So, much to my dawning and sickening horror, Sam saddled up to the side of the road and stopped the cruiser.

I sat, hands balled into tiny angry fists, waiting for his inquisition. I breathed in deeply through my nose, so loudly that you could hear it, and released in a whoosh. I didn't want to do this. I didn't need his unsolicited advice. I didn't need him actually pretending like he understood how I felt, or whatever. I just didn't need it period. Nor did I want it.

Sam was looking at me, I could feel it. Those damn spiders were crawling all over my face and it took everything I had in me to stop myself from physically soothing the itch that I felt upon my skin. Instead I settled upon rubbing my hands roughly over my face, almost scrubbing it.

"You don't have to do this, you know." I mumbled, secretly telling him _not_ to do this. But I knew he would. He was Sam. "I want to." He replied, just as quiet as I had been.

We both knew we were treading in foreign waters, waters we knew nothing about. Up until now Sam and I had had a mutual understanding. I didn't like him, and well he, he was just annoying. But now as things evolved, as I evolved, or fragile balance had to adjust too, and I didn't know how to do that.

"What's wrong?" He asked point-blank, and I had one too many answers for him. I could tell him how it was wrong that he was taking Quil from me, wrong that he had taken Paul and Embry, and wrong that I was here, feeling like this, because of him.

"Everything." I evaded, not looking at him. I was purposely avoiding this. I didn't want to think about where this conversation might go.

"Damn it, Bella!" Sam said, anger make his voice seem loud in the confined space of the cruiser. "If we are going to do this, you have to work with me!" I looked at him incredulously and yelled, "I never said I wanted to do this!"

Sam clenched his jaw then, and calmly spoke, "Listen, I care about you. As stupid, and wrong as that sounds to you, it is true," He said looking at me, his brown eyes pleading that I believe him, and I did. "So please do me a favour, or just do it see it for what you want, but let me care about you Bella, let me ask questions, and for the love of God give me answers!"

"But that's the thing! I can't let you!" I shouted, frustrated with it all. "Why not?" He asked, his voice just as loud as mine was. "Because you're you, and I am me!" I supplied, not making sense at all.

Sam took a deep breath, knowing what I meant, because as sad as it was, we understood each other to some extent, and so with his voice firm, and rather sad, he said, "I know. I wish you could let it go, and see me for me."

I fell silent at that, and knew with all my heart that I wish I could take the blinders off and see Sam for who he was, but I just couldn't. Jake wouldn't let me. Quil wouldn't let me. So with a heavy heart I said brokenly, "I know Sam, I know. I'm so sorry."

He nodded, and with a sad smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes he joked, "We're still going out, you do realize that?" Suddenly a bubble of mirth seeped from my heart, and I laughed. He joined me, and I felt better. Gone was the serious deep conversation, their ghosts returning to their graves, and I could breathe easily. Somewhat.

___

"We are cutting this night short." Sam said, idling in front of my house around two A.M. I looked at him cross eyed for a few moments, and sputtered out, "What? Why?"

"Because I said so." Sam said firmly, not once peeling his eyes away from the windshield to even bother looking me in the eye. I knew something was up, something was wrong. I didn't know what, but I wanted to know.

Right at this moment, I should have been jumping for joy, running out of the car, up to my room, and counting my lucky stars that fate had stepped in and cut my time short with Sam. But I wasn't. I was still sitting here. In the car, completely curious, pissed and disappointedly, concerned. I looked at Sam, and thought, that maybe he would feel my stare, and look at me, but he didn't and it infuriated me, so I yelled, "Why?"

"Because I said so!" Sam shouted back, whipping his head to look at me. I think I shrunk back into my seat, I really think I did. Sam's eyes were angry, irritated, and full of annoyance. I frowned, and snapped, "You know for a guy, who demands answers, you don't give them."

So with my anger just as bad as his, if not worse, I grabbed my bag from the floor of the car, and yanked it up before roughly jerking the door open so I could leap out. I stood there on the side walk, and much to my surprise the window rolled down, and for a moment I thought Sam just might have the decency to apologize, but no, instead he ordered, "Get in you house Bella, it's late."

"It's La Push." I countered, and noted my voice was acidic and taunting. Sam rolled his eyes, and just threw me a glare from his seat in the car. "Get in the car." He said in a short clipped tone.

So, flipping him the bird, to which he rolled his eyes, I turned on my heel and angrily marched back to my house. Muttering, and cursing Sam's name the entire time. Why? Why had the night been cut short? My mind tried to solve it as if it were one of those cubes. Twisting and turning the situation, trying to find reason in the distorted mess, but no matter what, I was drawing a blank, and I could feel the beginnings of a head ache coming on.

The old stairs of my porch groaned their complaints as I roughly stomped my way up them, not caring that I was hurting my feet more that defeating the anger. However this logical and intelligent thought did nothing but make me stomp harder and louder.

My steps falter as I enter the house. Immediately, as I step into my house, the familiar beige walls neutrally observing me, the same carpet is ready to receive my weight, and something, I don't know which part of me, audibly sighs within. Here, I can be Bella. Here, I know what I am doing, here; I can safely live with out the masses of questions that only come out when Sam is around. Her, I can be who I am. Here I don't want to be something more, here; I am what I want to be.

The switch between the two worlds is obvious, and somewhat frightening.

It only further emphasized my two diverse worlds that I was living in. With Sam, I was demanded to be something more, or at least it felt that way. In my mind, I wondered if that was a good thing. How could it be? Was I was supposed to feel inadequate and unworthy around another being that so closely observed me, and claimed to care for me? At the same time it brought the inevitable question: is change a good thing? I was bending to him, or was Sam bending me? I knew that the answer to this question was severely important and once I had it, it would make a difference.

For if Sam was bending me, I knew instantly that I was changing for the worse, meaning I was sacrificing my own happiness for that of another. Another, whom didn't seem to be willing to bend for me, however if I was bending for Sam, or to Sam, it was different. This meant that I wanted to do this, and at this precise moment it was all to confusing, and disconcerting, so I turned my attention to a more simple task and focused on the movement of my muscles and the transfer of my feet as I climbed the stairs.

I passed my parents door, wincing when my misplaced weight on my old floors elicited a loud croak from said floor. I response I heard my mother's voice groggily call, "Bella, dear, is that you?"

"Yes, mom, go back to sleep." I soothed, and heard a sound of assent as my mother fell back into sleep. I briefly wondered: what if it hadn't been me? What would my mom have done, after stupidly revealing herself to a threatening figure, like a burglar, or killer?

I left my musings at the landing of my stairs, and padded quietly as possible over to my room. I entered silently, willing my pestering thoughts to cease their chatter within my dissecting mind. I shook my head, and peeled off my clothes, throwing them haphazardly, not really caring where they landed. With a deep sigh, I pulled open my drawers, carelessly choosing my pajamas before quickly throwing them on.

I trotted over to my bed, after turning off my lights, and flopped onto the bed, landing with a soft, "Humph." I rolled over onto my back, tucking myself under the covers in the most awkward way, before lying still once again.

It was then, in thee small, a rare moments of silence that my thought seemed louder, more pronounced. It was as if I could here them more clearly, and that didn't mean I liked them anymore than I normally did. I sighed and clenched my eyes shut, willing for sleep to come, to mute my thoughts.

Thankfully sleep did come, not as fast as I would have wanted it to, but eventually exhaustion pulled me into its tempting arms, lulling me into a restless sleep.

___

I awoke with a start, sweat beading my forehead, hair matted and damp, and my temperature was simply abnormal. My heart rate was beating frantically in my chest, and I took deep breath, trying not to think of the dream that had wrenched me into alertness.

I wiped my dampened forehead on the sleeve of my baggy t-shirt and attempted not to mutter, "It was just a dream…" However it wasn't just a dream though. My subconscious was hitting a little too close to home, and I didn't like it. Immediately, as if asked, my dream sprang before my closed eyelids, playing before me.

Due to the fact that it was a dream, I only caught fragments of the vivid pictures my subconscious had painted, but that made it all the more worse. I had dreamed that I had lost Quil and Jake, and I was completely alone, and Sam was there, looking at me evilly, as if he orchestrated it all.

Fear crawled up my throat, and closed its hand in a tight fist, making it hard to swallow normally, making me wish that I wasn't so god damned scared, worried, but mostly utterly scared shitless.

I took another deep breath, closing my trembling fingers into a tight fist, wishing that they would stop quivering. My breaths were shaky, and I threw the covers off my body, noting it was eleven in the morning.

At least I had slept, I thought dryly.

I padded out of my room and clomped down the stairs. My mother had left a note explaining she was out getting groceries and something for dinner. I threw the note in the trash and moved on to hunting around the kitchen for breakfast, or brunch, or whatever.

After routing around my cupboards I settled on toast and a glass of milk. After it was all ready, I sat and pulled out the crossword my mother had attempted to solve. She failed, epically. I began one-handedly erasing the incorrect answers, and filling in the ones I knew. By the time I had finished my toast and small glass of calcium I had managed to fill in one corner.

After cleaning up, stubbing my toe and screeching out my pain, I went up stairs and got dressed. My toe throbbed as I stared at my closet; I winced slightly and muttered, "Fuck me Charlie Brown…" I reached into my messy wardrobe and pulled out a pair of dark wash jeans and a v-neck t-shirt.

I pulled it all on and descended the stairs, noting my mother still wasn't home. I sighed, and walked into the kitchen. I pulled the drawer where we kept the note pads open and took one out. I quickly grabbed a pen and quickly scrawled my message out:

_Gone out to see Quil—don't know when I will be back. _

_XO_

_Bella_

I put the paper in clear sight and walked to the front of house, where I sat down on my steps and laced up my combat boots. After I got the boots on I threw on a light jacket, stepping out of the house and locking the door.

I jogged over to Quil's anxious as ever to see Quil, my pace quickened more if that were even possible, at the thought of Quil. Finally with my heart in my throat, and my stomach at my feet, I knocked on Quil's door, rocking on my heels ever so slightly.

It seemed it had taken a lifetime, when in reality it had probably been just over a minute, at best, when the door was opened.

There stood Quil, and for a moment I was about to scold him for being out of bed when he was so sick, but then I stopped. Quil wasn't the size of Paul or Embry, no not at all, but it was the look on his face that told me that he was gone. That he had joined them. I shook my head and stupidly said, "Aren't you going to let me in? I came to see you."

I guess I was just hoping that maybe I had been wrong, maybe Quil was just feeling better, and this entire situation had just been conjured up, and it wasn't real. Quil shook his head, and replied, "Bella, I can't."

"Yes you can." I said between clenched teeth. I knew this was unfair, but I thought that since Quil saw this coming that maybe he would be different. Maybe he wouldn't ignore me. I was wrong though, because Quil was going to ignore me, and he was going to leave me.

Quil shook his head then, and I let out an anguished wail of fury, "C'mon! Don't do this!" Pain flashed behind Quil's eyes, and he took a step back, and it was then that I noticed that he was taller, much taller, he shoulders were slightly bigger, but I knew they would get broader in time, Embry and Paul had proved this.

I sighed, knowing my time was up, and Quil was no longer my friend, but a fellow acquaintance. I made once last pathetic attempt, and called out in a small voice, "Quil?"

He froze, and I knew this was painful for him. I knew he probably wanted to explain, but he still wasn't going to, and suddenly the anger was there. Why couldn't he just be my friend? Why couldn't he tell me why?

The door had been slowly closing, and with his famous last words Quil said, "Take care of yourself, Bells, and Jake. I'm sorry." I nodded curtly, and watched as one of my best friends shut me out, both literally, and figuratively.

I took a step back and stomped down the stairs with excessive force. This was it. I had lost another friend, all because of Sam fucking Uley. It all clicked into place then, just at the mention of his name. Sam had ditched me last night, due to the fact that Quil had 'phased' or whatever and he had needed to be there. I scowled and tried not to linger to much on it, there were be time for that, but now I had to go and tell Jacob.

I dragged myself over to Jake's and hope that he wasn't going to it said messenger. I continued on my walk, my last words with Quil playing over and over in my head. I knew this would happen, but then why did it hurt so much? I had been preparing myself for this point, and yet still, it seemed to hurt more? I shook my head and swallowed thickly.

My inner-interrogation was cut short when I reached Jake's home. It felt as though I forced myself up the walkway, dragging my feet all the way. I climbed the stairs and knocked on the door, hoping and praying Jake answered, it appeared as though I was a statue today, not a pigeon, and people were crapping all over me, because much to my deep disappointment, Rachel opened the door.

"Yes?" She greeted in a clipped short tone. I pursed my lips ad smiled tightly, and I requested with a sickly sweet mile on my face, "Is Jake here? I would like to speak with him." She simply rolled her eyes, and it took all I had in me not to yank her small squinty eyes out. I huffed, and was smugly relieved when I heard, "Rachel, let her in!"

Rachel stepped aside, and I smiled as if I was completely unaware of her disappointment, and slipped through the door way and herself. Jake stood there, looking like ten pounds of shit in a five pound bag. I smirked at my thoughts and followed Jake as he led me to his bedroom.

Once inside said room, I flopped down onto his unmade bed, sighing contentedly. Jake looked at me with raised eye brows, probably wondering why I was here. He lay down beside me, looking down at his stained shirt, scratching off one of the more crusted over ones. I chuckled and said, "Then there were two."

"Huh?" Jake said looking at me cross eyed, and I wanted to slap him for being so dense. He was actually going to make me say it. He was inadvertently going to make me recount my rejection from Quil; I sighed, and rolled onto my back before sitting up. My back was to Jake was I mumbled, "Quil…uh… he is gone."

"Gone how? Like I went to the store, or like six feet under?" Jake asked with mirth, his humor was un-knowingly facetious, and without my consent I immediately snapped, "Like Paul and Embry gone."

Jake tensed, and got up off the bed, leaving me to watch, awaiting his reaction. I knew it wouldn't be good; he had just gotten over the anniversary of his mother's death, and now this? I swallowed my anxiety and awaited his actions.

His arm shot out, and the wall met it in a not so nice greeting. He left a small dent, much to my surprise. I smirked, and then stood when I saw Jake pulling his wounded hand to his chest, cradling it almost. I walked over and said, "Can you bend it? Make a fist?" Rather than showing me or even giving me an answer he inquired, "Did you talk to him?"

I nodded deftly, and then Jake said, "Well obviously you didn't properly, because if you had Quil wouldn't be gone." My jaw fell open and my hackles rose, ready to ream Jake a new asshole. I floundered there for a moment before I defended, "What? You are actually blaming this on me?"

"If you had been here, this wouldn't be happening!" Jake yelled, and I took a step back, before shouting, "What do you mean if I had been here? I am here! What are you talking about?"

"You're never here! You're with Sam! All the freaking time! You wouldn't come to a party because of him Bella, what have you let him do? He is Sam Uley, not your best friend, that's me!" Jake supplied, and my heart sank. He thought I was leaving him too. He was deflecting because he was mad at this entire situation, and he was looking to blame it on a logical explanation, or person, which would be me.

I sighed sadly, and stepped closer, "Jake, I…I would never do that, I'll never replace you. You're always going to be my best friend. Sam Uley means nothing, not at all, please listen." I pleaded, hoping he would believe me and my lies. Because Sam wasn't nothing, he never would be, or could be.

"Just leave Bella. Go." Jake said, dismissing me. I felt my heart sink further, joining my toes at the ground, and in one last pitiful attempt, I said, "You know what? Fuck it! I don't need this. You know last night I bailed your sorry ass out, and this, this, is what I get? Fuck you Jake! You know I am your best friend, and I always will be, but fuck…let me know when you pull your head of your ass. 'Cause I can tell you one thing, I'm sorry I wasn't there yesterday, I couldn't help that, and I can't help this either, this is all on you."

I left in a huff; his silent response was enough to make me stomp out of the house, past Rachel who was looking like the cat who got the canary, and into the wet and rainy afternoon.

I yanked my hood on, and walked home in the rain. I was half way there when I stopped and clenched my hands, curling them into tight fists when I screamed, "Ah!" I was so mad. Mad it all. Mad at Jake. At Sam. At Quil. At what was happening, what had happened. I walked the rest of the way home just as mad as I was wet—which was a lot.

__________

I was in my room, listening to my I-pod, my angry scream-o music blasting through my ears, hoping this musical therapy would help. It wasn't. I was still mad. Still upset. I shook my head, and attempted not to feel so forlorn.

Jake and I never fought a lot, and when we did, it was big. However we always made up, always were quick to move one, but this time I found myself asking if this was it. If we going able to recover from this.

Although our words were minced, and short, it was all implications. He had implied that I was at fault for Quil's fresh absence and that was low. Too low, even for Jake who was still lashing out over all that had happened to us. I shook my head, and focused on the words.

It wasn't until I was lying in bed, having one of my silent moments where my thoughts came out to play, that I realized that I was alone. Completely and utterly alone. I shuddered slightly.

I steeled my spine, promising that I would be okay. Because I was right, wasn't I? I would be fine on my on, I would be okay.

I think.

But you see, the thing is, is that I am just hoping. And with hoping, you never really know, or so I've discovered.

**A/N: Whew! That was a big one. Sorry for the slow update. So our dear Bella is alone…oh but wait…her date with Sam is next, and what will happen when she doesn't have Quil or Jake around to judge her? Hmm…read and find out! **

**I hope you liked it, and if you did, please let me know. So yeah review. **

**Oh! Happy Halloween guys and gals! Obviously I gave you a treat not a trick…sorry that was lame. Anyway, give your author a treat and review!!!**

**So yeah. Hoped you liked it. Let me know. **

**Playlist:**

**Acid Jazz Singer—The Fratellis**

**Baby Doll—The Fratellis**

**Mysteries—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Crawl—Kings of Leon**

**Revelry—Kings of Leon**

**So yeah, review please!!**

***Sorry for the typos…I wrote this when I was super tired. But none the less I hope you enjoyed it***


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: THANK YOU!!! (For the reviews) I am pleased with all the reviews, most of you are quite excited for the date Bella has with Sam…and I cannot lie I am too! I hope you like it…mind you the date gets off to a bumpy start—since when had anything been easy for Sam and Bella?—and then it gets more smooth, more romantic. Anyway just thought I would warn you, but other than that I hope you all like the chapter.**

**Oh by the way—check out my profile I got all the images of what the characters look like…and who the resemble. **

**Disclaimer—S.M owns all characters, settings, idea, etc. no copyright infringement intended.**

**Boarders**

**Chapter Nine: Tell my parents I love them, if I don't survive. **

I must have fallen asleep, when I was there lying on my bed, listening to my thoughts ramble on and on about their musings. Which were all centered on the fact that I was alone. Completely, and utterly alone. That was the most daunting prospect, was the fact that I was alone. As in Jake didn't want to see me. As in, Quil jut didn't want me, period. Then there was Sam, who I was pretty sure wanted me, but the thing was, I was disgusted by the mere thought of him wanting me. For, I didn't want him to want me, because if he did, I am pretty sure I won't be able to resist.

I was pretty sure that this had worked out perfectly for Sam. I was alone, I had no reason not to want to be with him, or even acknowledge him as more than the local cop who had ruined my life. However that was holding me back. He was the reason Paul, Embry, and Quil weren't talking to me, and he was responsible for Jake.

I was awake now, and so were my thoughts, that much was obvious. I sighed, rolling onto my side, and instantly knew that this was not going to be easy. I was pretty sure it worked like phantom limb syndrome. I felt like my best friends were here, or I at least wanted them to be here, but they weren't. Still, thought, my heart lurched and painfully thumped in my chest at the thought of their absence.

I clenched my teeth together. This wasn't right. I wasn't that girl. The girl who was too scared to be alone, who needed to be coddled and soothed. I didn't need anybody. I would be fine, because I was Bella—fucking—Swan. I was who I was and I would be okay.

I shook my head, this was just too much. Why couldn't Sam have left me alone? This was ten different types of fucked up and I was not willing to deal with it all. I knew I was pathetic, a coward at best. Here I was wishing it all away, because I was too scared to confront it head on. It wasn't so much that I was actually quivering in my clunky combat boots, but the fact that the person I would need to confront is Sam Uley. Who tugs on my heart strings, makes my heart wish we were different, making me wish for something more.

However, that was the thing, he was Sam, and I was me. It wouldn't make sense for us to be anywhere near what he probably wanted. It was like oil and water. We just didn't mix. We weren't a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, we more along the lines of condiments. I was ketchup, and he was mustard. Sure we could get along, but we were two very separate things.

I left my musings to rest in my bed as I got up. I stood, looking out the window, and marveled at how the view seemed different now that I was alone. It looked more overwhelming, more like an imposing threat rather than the greenery I saw everyday, and hated with a passion. I pulled my eyes away from the confusing scenery, and looked over at my clock, which was blinking brightly that it was eight o'clock on this lovely Thursday morning.

I rubbed my eyes with the pads of my palms and groaned slightly. I was just about ready to go look for some medicine that would shut my brain the hell up. Just for a couple of minutes. Enough to mute the noise make it all go away. But I knew I couldn't do that. I would rather have my thoughts, plus I was pretty sure that there wasn't a drug that I could get my hands onto make my blabbering brain to just stop it s chattering for a few merciful moments.

I slinked out of my bedroom, my long ass sweat pants brushing the floor with each leisure step I took. I padded down the stairs, and much to my astonishing horror, my mother was on the phone, with, Sam Uley.

"Oh, well, then…Oh! Here she is would you like to talk to her, Sam? Oh, yes, tonight is perfectly fine, no, she doesn't have a set curfew, not too late though, just get her back to me in one piece." My mother chatted idly, only planning my date with Sam Uley. As if it was up to her.

My mouth fell open, willing oxygen to enter my lungs. Tempting it to enter so I could actually breathe. "Mom!" I snapped, reprimanding her. She had the audacity to actually give the okay on my date with Sam. By now, and by the time I got back from my date with Sam, my save-the-dates would be in the mail. Including my color schemes.

I stared her like she had five boobs, and she finally tuned into my radio station, and in a flurry of simpering she said, "Here I am, talking about it, when, Bella should be on the phone…I'll just hand you over to her, it was nice speaking with you too Sam."

The phone extended in front of me, my mother holding it out as if it were some award. I, rather than taking it like a normal person; I cringed back and shook my head. I didn't want to talk to him about the date. About _our_ date. The thought alone made my stomach flip flop in a weird way. Was it nerves? Excitement? I didn't even want to know.

My mother glared, her pointed stare doing nothing on me, a complete waste. I shook me head again, this time clenching my jaw to show just how much I was unwilling. She brought the phone back to herself, aligning it with where it was supposed to be before she said, "One moment Sam, just hold on."

I scowled and vehemently shook my head, not even giving her the chance to plead her case to me. "Bella," She warned, placing her hand over the phone so Sam wouldn't be able to hear our exchange, "Get on this phone. I know you have a date with him…"

Her voice was a melting pot of unfiltered pride and excitement, and warning, so rather than risking her wrath I rolled my eyes, finishing with an unhappy glare, and took the phone from her hand.

My mother smiled proudly, albeit smugly, and I waved my hand in a dismissive motion, telling her silently that if I was going to do this she would not be present. She nodded knowingly and entered the kitchen. I noted that it was absolutely silent, and I knew she was just ready to listen to my end of the phone call. I huffed and brought the phone to my ear before I greeted:

"Did you have a good conversation with my mother?" I spoke into the phone, turning back on the kitchen door. My greeting was comical, but my voice lacked the mirth that was a necessary component to it.

Sam laughed, and I damned him for sounding even more tempting over the phone. Stupid little fucker, well, not really little per say…

I rolled my eyes at my own idiocy and tried not to scream at Sam over the phone. I couldn't very well bring up my well founded suspicions over the phone whilst my mother was not even a good ten feet away. With my luck I would be carted off to a mental institution for the shit that I was spewing on a regular basis.

"So, according to your mother, we have a date tonight." Sam mused, and it took everything I had not to ream him a new asshole over the phone. I ground my teeth together, and I was pretty sure he could hear it, but that didn't deter me and with an indifferent voice I said, "It appears so."

My words were intentionally short and clipped, leaving no room for a good conversation. I didn't want to share a moment over the phone with Sam. He was the dick head responsible for the upheaval of my entire world.

Sam heaved a sigh and asked the predictable question, "What time is best for you?"

"Never." I said petulantly. I knew it was a moot point, I owed Sam, and well that was that. I could easily deny him and his request but I knew it wouldn't be right. I mean, it would just so fucking wrong. I had managed to make Sam abandon his life's purpose: to serve and protect…by the book. How could not give him something in return? To make him see that it was okay and that it was worth it. I sighed and wished I wasn't right.

"Seriously, Bella?" Sam said disapprovingly, and I almost suspected that he had heard my inner monologue the entire time. I rolled my eyes and replied, "Alright, alright! Sorry for trying to make a joke! I don't really care; I mean honestly, what works for you?"

This felt so weird, actually _talking_ to Sam. I mean sure, on the inside I was ready to rip his balls off and use them as a key chain, but still, here we were laying out our plans for our date.

"How about seven?" Sam asked sounding rather shocked and cautious, I rolled my eyes; I wasn't that much of a bitch was I? Okay maybe I was. I smirked and answered, "Sounds like a plan. Do you mind telling me where we are going, and whether combat boots are acceptable?"

Sam chuckled, and replied, "I guess they are, keep it casual. So, I'll see you then?" He was so nervous, I was tempted to say 'no' and hang up, but that was too cruel, so I said, "Yeah, see you later." We hung up on each other, and I placed the phone back into its cradle.

My shoulders drew up to my ears when I heard my mother's girly squeal of delight, as if they too wanted to cover them. I groaned and said, "Mom! I know you're all excited, I mean, how long have you been waiting for this day?"

"Too long." My mother said wistfully, I and scowled, so what, this was my first date. Big deal. In my mom's eyes Jesus probably had come again, and in mine, well, it was a date, with Sam. This basically meant I was pretty damned pissed and extremely unhappy. Shit happens.

I simply rolled my eyes and said, "Well congratulations, but if you will excuse me I am going to go get dressed."

I said it rather haughtily and I didn't know why but I was kind of miffed. Sure, I hadn't been on a date, but was it really that exciting? I didn't think it was, but that also could have been because that I actually didn't want this date. Or maybe I just wasn't a typical girl and was all warm and fuzzy over chilling with a guy. No wait, I am not even chilling with Sam tonight, I was going on a date that I was basically black mailed into.

G_reat, should make for a fan-fucking-tastic evening_, I thought wryly.

I didn't even know what I was going to do tonight. I was confused, what was I supposed to do, how was I supposed to act? If he expected me to be happy, Sam was sorely mistaken. Just because we were going on a date, that didn't mean I was going to go all unicorns and rainbows on his ass. If anything I was going to be worse that usual, I smiled happily, and stared at my closet.

I quickly pulled out a pair of dark wash jeans, a plain white tee shirt, and a way over sized cardigan that kept me nice and warm. I threw it all on, quite quickly, so much so that I tripped as I tried to pull on my jeans. After I was dressed I pulled a brush through my hair roughly tugging at the knots that seemed to be stuck there indefinitely.

I sat down on the end of my bed and dragging my boots over so I could lace them up in a comfortable position that I wouldn't loose my balance in. I smirked and tied the last laces together before standing up.

I clomped down the stairs, descending rather noisily for the sole benefit of annoying my mother. I stood at the bottom of the stairs and grabbed my light jacket, before walking down the hallway and peeking my head into the kitchen where I assumed my mother to be.

I gazed in the clutter making the counter look absolutely horrific to a person who suffers from O.C.D., pushing my musings to the back of my mind I requested from the doorway, "May I go outside? To the beach or just around La Push?"

My mother raised her perfectly waxed and arranged into perfection eyebrows, probably suspecting Jake was somewhere waiting, but I knew that that was not the case. Jake wasn't out there. Not for me at least. I had been officially dismissed, and I didn't even get a say in why, or when. I scowled at the unjust departure I had, and returned my attention to the task at hand; pushing the anger back down into my stomach so it too could wrestle with the turmoil that was swimming there.

"On your own?" She questioned, confirming my thoughts. I stopped myself from rolling my eyes, because that shit didn't go down well with my mom, and replied, "Yup."

I intentionally kept her in the dark about Jake, due to the fact that if I told her I would most likely end up having to answer a plethora of questions, and I couldn't promise all honest answers.

She nodded, giving me one of her looks that told me if I was being anything less than honest with her I was probably going to make sure I never got the chance to leave the house ever again.

I turned on my heal eager to get out of the house so I could clear my head. I somehow found myself wondering if I could just air out my head, than may just maybe my tedious and barely tolerable thoughts would just float away…I knew it wasn't hopeful or even logical, but whatever.

I slipped my jacket on while walking to the door, and I was genuinely surprised I managed to do it. I sucked at multi-tasking; it wasn't by any means a talent of mine. I had reached the door by now, I twisted the old knob that was probably due to be replaced and stepped out of the house. I pulled the door shut quickly and looked to my left.

I half expected to see Jacob walking up the road, trying to escape yet again, but sadly he wasn't there, not at all. The only thing that closely resembled his form was this tall scraggly evergreen that stood out like there was no such thing as a forest amongst the other trees. I looked away, steeling my spine, talking myself out of my misery. You see I was miserable, and I would love some company, but I didn't have any. Now that, pun was intended.

I smirked, and clomped down my steps, stuffing my hands in my coat's warm pockets. I stepped carefully, around the large puddles that opened up their wide and long mouths along my walkway, just waiting to swallow up my foot. I made it to the sidewalk, scant of any puddle accidents and I looked both ways before crossing the large road that separated me and the beach.

I scurried across it, and instantly felt calmer when my combat boots sunk into the soft albeit cool sand. I didn't know why, but my prospects always seemed better once I was at the beach. It could have been due to the fact that there was something about the ocean that drew me in. It was constant, simple, yet complicated, ever changing yet completely the same each and every time I saw it.

I sighed, and happily lowered myself onto the sand, sitting a good distance away from the water, but close enough to inhale the salty scent it brought with each rolling wind that encouraged the waves to grow. I sat cross legged, not caring that little tiny grains of sand had some how wormed their way into my boots, not caring at all, just being.

The salty wind ran its fingers across my face, a gentle caress that made me forget, just for a moment. Here, I was insignificant as the grains in my boots, here I was on my own, and I didn't need to look at Jake, or Embry, or Paul, or Quil for permission.

_You don't anymore at least, _my conscience reminded me, shattering my peaceful moment.

However, had it not been for my conscience's teasing taunt I would have remained there on the beach, and missed Paul, Embry, and their beloved leader Sam walking by.

My heart immediately, as if on cue, broke into a frantic rhythm and I was quite tempted to just investigate if I actually had a rare heart condition. It seriously needed to be looked into. I pushed my chatter away and twisted around so my back was to the ocean and my front was facing the three forms.

I briefly wondered where the newest minion was, where Quil was, but I decided not to further pursue that thought. However it was too late and my anger awoke in a flash, just at the thought of Quil.

I wanted to go over to Sam and beat the crap out of him, or just rip his balls off, or just scream at him for taking Quil when I told him not to. But, still, here I sit, hesitating. I was timid and unsure all because I was scared, or worried if this would change Sam and I's delicate balance.

I stood, almost as if on instinct, but still I paused. I straightened my posture, and mumbled a determined; "Fuck it…" before I began to head over to him and his posse.

I knew this probably wasn't one of my more wise moments, or even smart decisions, but god damn it I was just so mad. I was so angry at Sam; he dumped me at my house so he could go talk to Quil, all for the sake of taking another one of my friends. I had specifically told him not to go near Quil. I knew it was irrational, I knew that it wasn't Sam or Quil's fault. Whatever had happened was not by choice by any means. However in my mind, at this specific moment, that was irrelevant. Sam represented what was happening, and I was just so angry with it all.

I didn't have Jake.

I didn't have Quil.

I didn't have Paul.

I didn't have Embry.

I didn't have anybody.

I had no one.

I felt my anger grow into this monstrous beast, devouring my lack of common sense before I could stop its hungry jaws. I was already close of enough that Sam was staring at me now. I knew this wasn't the best time to approach him. I was about to confront him in front of his minions, which probably wasn't a good idea. For he would not take this well, he would be sure to match my every move.

I knew I could easily walk away, make some dumb excuse, but that was the thing, I had promised my self at least that I wouldn't let Quil go, not without a fight, and even if that meant that I had to be a martyr I was willing.

So with my pride flying behind me at full mass I stopped in front of Sam, fuming and ready to start something.

"Bella," He greeted, quite aware of what I was doing. That was the thing, Sam seemed to understand my every move, and that was completely unnerving. I mean, I was struggling to just decode this mess that had been thrust upon me and he made it look so simple, it was almost enough to make me scream. I clenched my jaw shut and replied, "I told you to leave him alone, Sam, I told you!"

Sam released a breath, wincing slightly as if I had hurt him. However the moment Paul stepped forward, Embry flanking his other side, Sam stood taller if that were possible.

_What is this? Some type of brotherhood? This shit is soo messed up. _My inner voice said, smiling as if she had told an amazing joke.

"I warned you Isabella," Sam scolded, and I scowled, did he just use my first name? My entire name? That was reserved for my mother, the genius who picked it, not him. My inner ramble was cut short when Sam continued, "Don't do this, not here, we will discuss this later."

I gaped at him, and his tone. The way he had said it, as if it were an order, as if he were dismissing me, of all people. My thoughts made me snap, and I didn't know that the filter between my mind and my mouth had been closed for repairs, so with complete and unleashed anger I snapped, "I am not one of your fucking minions Sam," I said throwing a glare at Paul and Embry. "So don't you dare treat me like one! God, can't you just answer me? You demand honesty all the time! You are such a hypocrite with enough double standards to choke a horse ten times over! You know what take all your preaching and try practicing it for once!"

By the time I had finished Sam was glaring at me, intensely so, and I was pretty sire he was going to yell right back at me when Paul said, "Don't Bella, don't. Just leave, like Sam said."

My head swiveled towards him and I quipped, "Excuse me, I don't remember inviting you into _my _conversation, so why don't _you _just but the fuck out." I turned away and said to Sam, "You know what, I will leave, but just to give you time to you discipline your merry men who don't know there place. Later, fuckers!"

I shouted my last words as I walked away, and I was glad I had, for I could feel Sam's fiery glare punching a hole in the back of my skull. I would have probably continued my banter, but I didn't feel that would be good. Paul would end up making those weird growl-like noises, and then I would have been even more confused, so rather than sticking I left, and it was most likely the smartest thing I had done so far.

So with my head in shambles, my conscience trying to sort through all the debris, I left the beach, with only one thought on my mind:

Were Sam and I still going to go out tonight? I didn't think so, I mean, who would want to go out with a girl who just verbally abused them in front of all their friends?

____

I had never been more wrong in my entire life.

Seriously.

By the time I had gotten home from my little gander about the exciting town that is La Push I had convinced myself that Sam was just going to ditch me. As I there wouldn't be a date.

I would do that. I don't think that it is possible for you to even date someone who hates you. So that's why after I confronted Sam I decided we weren't on for tonight. It made sense in my mind at least, then again, Sam and I never really seemed to get along, or even approach a mutual and correct understanding of each other.

So you all ca imagine how severely disappointed and shocked I was when around six thirty Sam called. I picked it up of course knowing he would probably be calling to tell me either that he wasn't going to go out with me, or that he needed to talk to my dad about work. Neither of my options ended up happening.

Instead I picked up my old phone, one that was ancient and should be replaced but my father, being the hoarder that he was, insisted on keeping it around, something about 'if it ain't broken, don't fix it'.

I picked up the phone, almost too eagerly, thinking my dreams were coming true, that Sam indeed was canceling on me. I stole the phone from its resting place and greeted with a regular, "Hello?"

"Hey Bella, it's Sam, I just wanted to make sure that you were ready, and see if you needed extra time?" Sam asked, being all polite and considerate. After I had bashed him he was being all polite, and nice and sweet and…ugh.

Instantly I felt guilty, my thoughts alone were less than nice, never mind how I treated the poor boy. I sighed and ran a hand over my face, trying to not let the guilt suck me under. It was too late though and I was already stupidly saying, around the turmoil that had risen like bile in my throat, "Um, sure, actually can you give me an extra fifteen minutes?"

"Sure." Sam said dragging the word out, making sure too let me know he knew I was up to something. Or was lying to him. Damn it. Oh well.

I hung up on Sam shortly after and dashed into the kitchen, looking at my mother who was sitting at the counter reading one of her fluffy novels. I quickly said, "If Sam gets here before I am ready could you please keep the baby photos in the boxes."

"Alright-y, I save those for your next date." My mother goaded, fake pouting, as if she had planned to show Sam. I wouldn't be surprised if she actually had. I shook my head and left my mother to read.

I clomped down the hallway and ascended the stairs, rather loudly, and walked into my room. I didn't even want to think about what I was going to wear, so rather than facing that tough decision, I opted for a shower.

Sadly my shower was brief and quick, not at all soothing. Not what I needed before this date, I probably need a therapeutic shower that lasted a good hour or so, but sadly I was not blessed with such and had to make do with the fifteen minutes I did have.

With my towel tightly wrapped around my till too wet frame I stared into my closet. Mentally telling it to come up with an outfit for me. It wasn't so much that I was inept when in come to fashion sense, but I didn't know what exactly to wear. What should I wear?

I didn't want to look like I was trying to hard, however by that same token I didn't want to look like I didn't care. For as sad as it was, a part of me did want to look nice for Sam, however, I also didn't want to change for Sam. I shouldn't have to change for him. He should want me just as I am. Even if that meant combat boots and all the rest, but some part of me knew that this date meant something more.

This wasn't just us getting dinner together. This was us taking a step forward. This was us gaining something. For once. Was I really willing to sabotage this opportunity? Nothing was holding me back, it wasn't as though I didn't have legitimate reasons, but the real question was: were they worth it? Was it worth cutting my nose off to spite my face? All for the sake of two boys who wouldn't even talk to me?

I shook my head.

My decision was made. For one night I was going to give Sam a chance. Just this once. I was going to partake in something I wanted. I wanted to see what it would be like to be around Sam in a different setting. A setting where he wanted me there. At the same time though I was still angry, unbearably so. However, I was tempted to push my abhorrence for Sam and his knack for persuasion for just this one night.

What could come if it? It was one measly date.

"No matter how long you stare at your closet, it isn't going to just spit out an outfit for you, you do realize this?" My mother interjected from the doorway, her eyes glittering with a delighted mirth.

I rolled my eyes and sarcastically replied, "Ha-ha."

"Having troubles?" My mom said as she pushed off from the frame of the door. She sauntered over to me, coming to a halt once she had reached my side. I stared at the closet some more and then said, "I give, I have know idea what to wear."

A bubbly laughter escaped from my mother and she looked at me before glancing at the closet, "Dress like you normally do. Honey, Sam asked you out because he likes you for you, there is a reason for this. So just be yourself, and be who you are."

I nodded, only half hearing her clichéd words. My mother left with a loving pat on my now air dried shoulder. With a decisive nod, I dove in selecting pieces that I would like, and thought her kind of dressy, but still me.

Okay maybe not dressy, but it was me.

With my outfit chosen and laid out on my bed I went about drying my hair. I dried it quickly, one eye on the clock and one on the dryer. My hair was relatively straight by the time I was done. I was pleased, and just because I finished earlier than I thought I would I applied some eyeliner and mascara, careful to not poke myself in the eye.

Sam was knocking on the door when I was clomping down the stairs and much to my horror my father answered the door. He pulled the door open, revealing a very nice looking Sam.

He was wearing a pair of dark wash jeans and a black dress shirt, however he had the cuffs rolled up, revealing nice and smooth bronze colored fore arms. I briefly wondered how he wasn't cold, but then remembered how warm Sam was all the time. I chalked it up to his weird cult symptoms and finished my descent of the stairs.

My Dad and Sam were chatting idly when I arrived and it stopped when I was in Sam's line of sight. I didn't think I looked that great, but obviously Sam thought otherwise, "You look great Bella."

I gave a small smile before taunting, "You clean up well yourself." He smirked, and I knew that I wasn't dealing with Sam the leader, or Sam the cop for that matter, I was dealing with Sam, the nineteen year old guy who was taking me out on a date.

In my eyes it was absolutely amazing that all these different people made up one whole, and did it with a perfect balance. One could not exist with the other, and I found that to be highly complex and rather awe worthy.

When I was done fawning over Sam my dad spewed off classical warnings to Sam, my mother joining in occasionally, but it was all in good fun. They were more than pleased Sam of all people was taking me out tonight.

When the door closed behind us, I turned and looked up to Sam, and apologized, "Sorry about them, they are kind of annoying."

"Nah, they're cool, in that weird parent way." He smirked down at me, and for once, his eyes seemed clear, lighter almost.

They weren't jaded by the harsh secrets they seem to hold, nor were they weighed down by his numerous roles in his own life. They actually matched his age, and I found that I liked to see him happy. I glanced down, scolding myself for being so foolish and juvenile.

I looked up and my jaw must have it the floor, for there in front of me was a classic truck. One that was made in the sixty's and contributed to global warming with each tank of gas. I looked at Sam who was smiling proudly, and I blurted out incredulously, "Is that yours?"

Sam nodded, walking around me to open my door for me, I rolled my eyes, but stepped in, clambering up and into the truck. I sighed happily once seated, and rubbed the dash board affectionately, this was my ideal car. Absolutely fantastic.

"Got a thing for cars, huh?" Sam asked, watching me from the passenger side window, which was open. "Nope, just a thing for classics." I replied, turning my attention back to his car. Sam smirked, patting my side of the car before walking around to his side and entering the cab.

We entered a slow pace, and I knew this time that it was not by choice, this car was made for speed. I knew that, and I was perfectly fine with his put-put-put pace. I smiled again, and found that my cheeks were starting to hurt.

"Where did you get her?" I asked looking at Sam. "Who said it is a 'she'?" Sam replied tauntingly, and I rolled my eyes before quipping back, "I do. Everyone knows that all objects are a she: boats, cars, household objects, the list goes on Sam, need I explain further?"

"Nope, Shelby and I understand." Sam replied, sparring back. I smirked, and noted how smoothly this all was going. "But seriously, where did Shelby come from?"

"Built her from scratch," Sam appeased smiling like there was no tomorrow. I smiled back, and nodded appreciatively, noting that I was slightly impressed. I couldn't even fathom how long it took him to do it, but none the less it was really cool, and I respected Sam for his infinite patience.

If it were me I would have probably already abandoned Shelby, going by my favorite quote: when life give you lemons, say fuck off and bail. I smirked, and asked another question, "So, where are we going?"

Sam glanced at me, as if he were shocked we were actually sharing a conversation. Inwardly I groaned, and rolled my eyes, but outwardly I patiently awaited his answer. I didn't have to wait long.

"No where in La Push." He relinquished. I rolled my eyes, outwardly and said, "You know you could make this way easier on the both of us if you just told me, 'cause if you don't I am just going to ask questions until we get there."

Sam smirked, "I think I'll take the risk."

So, multiple questions later, and a very annoyed Sam we came to a halt in front of a very out of the way, untouched restaurant.

"I told you." I said shrugging my shoulders as I stepped out of the truck. Sam just laughed, and placed his hand on my lower back, sending a pleasurable thrum up my spine, as he guided me towards the entrance of the cozy and romantic restaurant.

We entered, the aroma of Italian cooking strong as we walked in, but I found myself taking deep breaths as if that would help me further appreciate the lovely aromas.

We walked up to the hostess, who couldn't have been much older than me, she was probably working to help out with her education. I waited beside Sam, who was currently giving his name.

The hostess motioned for us to follow, which we did through the winding tables, which were placed together rather closely. Our table was in the back, lit by only a small candle, however the lights over head were set to a low romantic setting, only further adding to the theme of the restaurant.

I sat, leather jacket and all, and watched as Sam tried to fold his large form into the tight space he was provided with. I laughed, and Sam looked up chuckling with me whilst saying, "It really isn't that funny."

"Then why are you laughing?" I countered, arching my eye brow. Sam fell silent, and shrugged, finally having found what looked to be a comfortable position.

Due to the fact that Sam was such a huge man, his legs extended outside of the table on my left side, and I feared for anybody who might come along and trip. However I didn't busy myself with that thought too much, knowing I would be the first to laugh if some one were to indeed trip over Sam's toned leg.

Just then our waiter approached, menus tucked under his one arm, he stopped a foot away from our table and then proceeded to recite his memorized and probably customary greeting, "Hi, I'm Kyle, and I will be your server tonight. May I start you off with some drinks?"

I nodded and ordered, "Could I please get a Coca-Cola?" Kyle nodded, and looked to Sam, who ordered the same thing.

After Kyle's departure Sam and I busied ourselves with our menus, gazing at the meals that were appealing to us. "What are you going to get?" I asked not glancing up from my menu.

"I am thinking of getting Chicken Alfredo, how bout you?" Sam answered, folding his menu up at the same time. I nodded, biting on the inside of my cheek. I settle on some simple spaghetti and folded my menu up as well.

Before we got the chance to even consider starting a conversation Kyle was back and ready to take down our orders. Sam and I placed them watching Kyle leave to pass our orders along.

A pregnant pause took place, and was verging on awkward, so not really thinking I blurted out, "You know what Nursery rhyme I don't understand? Humpty Dumpty."

"Huh?" Sam asked, clearly shocked, not really knowing how to react to my random musings. I quickly explained, "I mean, what is the freaking moral behind it? Every nursery rhyme has one, and then you get to Humpty Dumpty? Where is the teachable lesson?"

Sam shrugged and said, "I don't know, but it probably has one, otherwise it wouldn't be told to each generation. It's a classic, I thought you liked classics?"

I playfully stuck my tongue out at him before attacking his logic, "What's the logic? Not to it on high walls, or you risk falling?"

Sam nodded and said, "Yep. That and you won't be put back together, history teaches us that all the king's horses and men couldn't put him back together again."

I rolled my eyes before countering, "But that's just it! Humpty Dumpty was an egg! How can you put an egg back together again? And for that matter out the hell did Humpty Dumpy get up onto the wall? He's an egg! Eggs don't have arms or legs!"

Sam laughed and my serious curiosity, and replied, "Why is this so important to you?"

"It confuses children! Children all over are confused, all because of a dumb nursery rhyme!" I said, trying to get my point across.

"I think you're the only confused one here, Bella." Sam said, affectionately patting my hand in a soothing manor.

I just looked at him and broke into a laugh, his booming guffaws soon joining mine. I found tears falling from my eyes due to the humor, and was thankful when Kyle showed up shortly after.

Who knew, dissecting nursery rhymes really worked up an appetite?

___

"I really had fun Sam, thanks." I said, licking the ice cream cone Sam had bought for me. Sam had finished his ice cream long ago, in fact he was done by the time we were halfway back to the car.

By now we were approaching the street we had parked on, a couple blocks away from the ice cream parlor Sam had taken me to.

We continued our loping walk, and soon we were greeted by the sight of Shelby, and Sam was shoving the last piece of my ice cream cone into his mouth. Boy that man could eat. I inwardly laughed, and didn't roll my eyes this time when Sam opened my door for me.

Once we were both seated in the cab of the truck Sam began our slow but peaceful ride back to La Push. The ride seemed shorter than on the way there and I found myself disappointed my time with Sam was over.

We were parked in front of my house, and Sam had exited the car to open my door, and when it opened, he took my hand helping me down, and a spark shot up my arm. I almost jerked away, but by the time I could have Sam had let go of my hand and I was standing in front of him, looking into his deep confederate eyes.

We stood there for a few minutes, and I took in a deep breath, before saying again, "Thanks again Sam, I had a lot of fun." I was walking away when I felt his hand on my wrist, his long fingers circling around it, before tugging me back to where I had been standing.

I looked up again, this time more expectantly. Sam spoke and this time though his voice was a much deeper rumble and I found that I liked the sound, "Please don't punch me."

I was about to ask why, but then decided against it, noticing how his face was getting closer and closer to mine. Butterflies sprung up in my stomach, fluttering about in their excitement.

He face was much closer now, and just when his nose would have touched mine I turned my head to the side and said, "I can't."

Sam growled, and I felt his hands come up and cradle my face in his large palms, forcing me to look at him. The warmth that they produced was comforting and I leaned into his left palm.

"Yes you can Bella," Sam whispered, his face still close, "Do you want this?" His face was poised there, refusing to go any further with out my permission, I nodded breathlessly, and Sam said, "Then you should have it Bella. This is me and you, no one else."

With those famous last words Sam mouth descended upon mine.

They were warm and soft, pressing with the littlest of pressures, against mine. I kissed him back, wiping away any hesitancy he had left. Our lips moved together in a perfect choreographed dance, once that felt natural.

The excited butterflies increased their fluttering tenfold when Sam's hot tongue swept across my lower lip, before he tugged on it with his teeth, taking it into his mouth where he nibbled and sucked on it gently.

By now Sam's nimble fingers had snaked into my dark hair, weaving through it, finding perfect resting places. In this moment I wished I didn't have to breathe, but sadly I did, and Sam did, so we both pulled back, our bruised lips matching.

Sam brought his hands back to cradle my face, resting his forehead against mine, while murmuring, "I would like to do this again."

"Me too." I whispered, suddenly shy.

I stepped out of his hold once he brought his hands back to his sides, and I was walking away when I yelled back to Sam who was leaning against his car with a smug smirk on his face, "See you tomorrow!"

I was on my front porch, my hand touching my lips, as if to see I could feel an imprint of Sam's lips on mine.

I had kissed Sam Uley, and I liked it.

**A/N: OHHH! You all owe me a huge thank you!!! THEY KISSED!!! Amazing…anyway I hope you all liked this chapter and if you want a quick review give me some reviews…by the way sorry for my slow update…this took me a while to map out. **

**Anyway regardless please review. I think I deserve it.**

**Play list:**

**Warrior—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Dull life—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Tick—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Dragon Queen—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Just What I Needed—The Cars **

**Sorry lots of Yeah Yeah Yeahs…but they are amazing so no harm in that. **

**Anyway hope y'all liked it! Let me know! Click that button!!!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Wow…that was a lot of feed back! Thank you SO MUCH! The majority of you all loved the last chapter……hmmm….I wonder why? Could it be that Bella and Sam kissed! Yeah! I am so glad you all liked the last chapter, and well I will give you all a huge thank you!**

**Some of you said that it was too 'early' for a kiss between Sam and Bella, and that was the point. She did do this too early. It is going to cause some major waves. I did this to further develop my plot. So just chill people, it's all going to work out. **

**Disclaimer: I don't anything at all, not copyright infringement intended—all goes to the lovely S.M.**

**Boarders**

**Chapter Ten: Hung over and ready to shed some blood**

Kissing Sam was like getting drunk.

Not in the cool way, where it makes you all warm and fuzzy. In the way that you're so shitfaced, that the morning after you feel like an axe is lodged in your fore head and is not coming out any time soon. That's what I was feeling right now. Maybe not exactly like that but I definitely hung over.

I was feeling the repercussions of my actions. My emotions were in a huge mess, as was my mind trying to find a logical excuse for my lapse in judgment. I was having no luck with orchestrating my excuse; in fact I had no idea if I was even going to be able to chalk this up to anything remotely logical or worthy of acceptance.

The truth was that last night, when he had kissed me, I felt high as a freaking kite. It was amazing, and even better than I had imagined it. But what did this mean for me? I was still terribly angry and ticked with Sam. I was still harboring a grudge like no other for him, so then why had I kissed him?

"I am so fucking stupid!" I screeched. I was currently in my room pacing back and forth.

I couldn't believe I had let him kiss me, and that was the thing, it had ultimately been my decision. I was the one who said yes, me, not Sam. It wasn't like he mouth-raped me or anything, I legitimately gave the okay.

In a way I didn't regret it, but at the same time I had completely contradicted what I was thinking. I had promised Quil that I would take care of myself, and Jake, and how could I say I was doing so by being such a turncoat? However was I a turncoat for just going after what I wanted? For the sole reason of maybe achieving something that I wanted.

Last night I had done something that I had wanted to do. Not what Sam wanted me to do. Not what Jake wanted me to do. Not what Quil wanted me to do. But what I wanted to do.

However, somehow these well versed and thought out musings were not enough to comfort me. I still had this feeling inside me that I had done something wrong, that I had stepped out of place.

I was just turning on my heel, ready to make another pace when my Dad yelled, "What are you doing, tearing a hole in the floor?" I groaned and murmured, "No…"

Rather than risking my father's lecture I exited my bedroom and descended the stairs noisily and grabbed my jacket when I was at the bottom. I looked to my mother who was sitting in the living room reading a book while eating her toast.

"Mom?" I called, hoping that I would be able to draw her out of her novel for just a moment. That was the thing about my mother, once she was deeply embedded in a book, the lights were on but nobody was home. I smirked when she continued to read, and I asked again, "Mom? I am going to go out for a bit, okay?"

She nodded, not really knowing what she was agreeing to, but it was enough for me, and apparently my father who waved me off as I slipped out of the room. I walked over to the door, opening it and slipping out before my mother would notice my absence.

I padded down the steps, looking to my left, once again expecting to see Jake standing there. Much to my surprise I saw Rachel, his sister who thought I had corrupted her precious little brother. I rolled my eyes, and inwardly scoffed.

Rachel was walking, looking as though she was about to come over to my house, but the moment she saw me she froze. I smirked, and continued to walk down my pathway. I didn't have the time for her, for her to tell me that I was at fault for it all, for my friendship with Jake, because she was right. I was at fault, if I hadn't been so selfish, if I hadn't let Sam get to me, then we would still be friends. We would still be okay.

However we weren't okay, by any means. Our friendship was non-existent, for now at least. I didn't know if it was my pride, but I refused to go talk to Jake. Part of me thought that I was right, and I was for the most part, and Jake was wrong. He was just mad and angry and hurt. However where did that leave me? It left me alone, suffering from his misplaced emotional lashes. However another part of me, the very selfish and disgusting part of me felt relief.

Relief that I didn't have to be what Jake needed me to be. I didn't have to coddle him and hide the fact that as much as I hated Sam, he had redeeming qualities. The ones that made my heart throb painfully in my chest and make me wish I was able to let go and be brave.

Brave enough to tell Sam that yes I was willing to understand him. To try. I wished I was brave enough to out myself to most of the important of my life, however, I didn't, and I won't. Why? Well, the small but powerful phrase summed it up: I was a coward.

But Jake didn't want that for me, for us. He didn't want to try and see me truly free, he didn't want change. He wanted us to be who we were before that night and I couldn't guarantee that I actually agreed with him.

For no matter how much I denied it, that night was a turning point for all of us, me more so than Jake and Quil. It had tested us and we had failed. The moment there was trouble we crumbled and fell, which made me question myself and our friendship. Were we friends or merely drinking buddies?

I pushed my poisonous and dishonorable thoughts away and focused on Rachel who was now closer to me. It was irrelevant though, I was away from the house now and turning to walk to the diner. My back was turned to her, sending her the message of 'go away and fuck off' quite clear. Or at least in my eyes it was, "Bella! Wait!"

I tensed at Rachel's orders, and briefly debated whether or not to keep walking. Rachel was most likely here to ream me a new one or scold me for her brother's downfall, but I made a promise to Quil—to take care of Jake. So if it meant me getting verbally assaulted was my way of gaining some information on Jake's well being, so be it.

So I turned around, coming face to face with Rachel. I mentally prepared myself for her verbal onslaught, but it never came. Instead she paused in front of me, and I raised an eyebrow, questioning her presence silently.

She took a deep breath and said, "I know we don't get along," At this I snorted, and she glared, and I could tell she was trying hard not to be her normal snooty self around me. "But we have one thing in common: Jake."

I nodded, confused as to where she was going with her little speech.

"I know he can be annoying, arrogant, completely and totally oblivious, but I also know that you love him. I know that you care for him enough to bail him out the stupid shit he does, even if it means sacrificing our happiness." Rachel sighed, staring at me intently.

"How did you know? Rachel, I don't know what is going on with you, but you don't have to thank me, Jake already did that quite nicely." I spat out bitterly, frustrated that she felt the need to drag this out in front of me.

Rachel scowled, "Bella, just shut up, I am thanking you because I need you to do me a favor. I know that you and Jake fought, and as much as I hate to say this, he needs you and right now, he is far too proud to even consider talking to you. I know you shouldn't be the one to go to him but I think you'll be waiting for a very long time before you get anything out of him."

I could tell she was trying to joke around with me but, I mean, seriously? It wasn't working. Rachel and I had never got along since I was able to talk back and tell her that no, I didn't like pink, no I didn't want flats.

You see before I developed, or grew comfortable with my personality, I was quite silent—passive aggressive to be specific. But then I just stopped caring and told people what I really thought. Rachel, like the others, wasn't so open to my 'drastic' change in personality. So she slowly stopped being, 'Older sister-mentor-slave-driver-stick-up-my-ass-Rachel' and turned into a distant foreign concept that was known as: I know you because of Jake, I tolerate you because of Jake.

I was more than happy when this took place, her voice was really high and nasally and it took all I had in me not to buy her some medication to fix that shit. I smirked but erased it as soon as she squinted at me.

I sighed, "Fine Rachel, I'll talk to him. However you got to let me do this my way, I won't coddle him and walking on egg shells for him, got that?"

She nodded eagerly, her peppy, perky, high ponytail bobbing along with her. I rolled my eyes and an uncomfortable silence settled upon us, and I soon discovered that she wanted me to talk to him now. Inwardly I was ready to yank on her pony tail however I knew that wouldn't do any good and decided against it.

I at least wanted five minutes to organize my thoughts; however I knew that knowing Rachel she wanted me to go talk to me now. So I was just going have to wing it, whatever, that was the best way.

I shook my head and stepped around her, trying not to carry through my evil plan of pulling on her pony tail. I deliberately stuck my hands in my coat's pockets and continued to walk towards Jake's house. The walk was short and I found myself brooding in silence.

Why was it up to me? I just couldn't see how just this once that maybe Jake could swallow his big ass pride and apologize to me, for once. However I knew I was arguing a moot point, for as long as I had known Jake we had never found ourselves in such a situation. Never had our fights been so big that the gap was too big too proud for us to close. No topic had made us divide in such an easy manner.

I pushed the thoughts away once I reached Jake's walk way, getting mad at Sam whilst trying to solve another equally consuming issue would not and could not do me any good. I shook my head and glanced back to see Rachel following me, I whipped my head back around when she looked up and clambered up their front porch's steps.

Once we had reached the door way, I paused not knowing whether or not to just let myself in. My answer was given when Rachel skirted around me and pushed the old and familiar door open. We both entered, just as awkward as ever, and I headed towards Jake's room when Rachel called out, "Bella?"

I turned and arched an eye brow in response, she sighed and timidly asked, "Just, be…gentle with him? He's really hurting." I nodded in assent but couldn't help but think that he didn't deserve such mercy, but I held it back and pushed it down into the depths of my conscience.

Leaving Rachel behind and I mentally prepared myself for the second time today, trying to decipher the best approach to take in regards to Jake. He was a mystery sometimes, he could get angry, a rage so intense that I always attempted to avoid it, or he could break down, that was always difficult, but far easier than anger, and last worse possible action was silence.

When Jake was silent, it was game over. There was no getting to him. I sighed, knocking on his door, hoping that this would turn out for the best. I sincerely doubted it, but Jake was my last chance at anything that resembled normalcy.

"What?" Came in through the thin wood of the door, I knew if I answered, I would hear the answering click of a lock sliding into play, so I opted for a different technique and entered quickly.

I closed the door behind me, meeting Jake's surprised, yet slightly happy gaze. The moment I registered the emotion, it was gone. Instead it was swept up and replaced by anger. I shook my head at Jake and opened my mouth to speak, however, I was cut off and Jake directed the conversation, as per usual.

"I don't remember asking you to come over." He said, his anger and message quite clear. But I knew Jake he may be mad right now, but the thing was, I knew he was slightly pleased by my presence, because after all the shit that went down, we were still friends.

I rolled my eyes and attempted to hold back my retort to no avail, "You know what? I don't need this. I came over here to talk to you about all the bull shit you spouted the other day, but if you're going to be an ass hole, than you can consider yourself screwed, 'cause this is the last time you're going to see me until you pull your huge head of your own ass to apologize to me!"

He remained silent, and a thick and guilt-tasting bile rose in my throat. I felt sick to my stomach, this wasn't how it was supposed to be, I was supposed to try work it out, not being insensitive and snapping at him the moment the opportunity displayed itself. At the same time, I was just so mad at him.

He had blamed me for the worst thing possible. He had accused me and slandered me for something that had nothing to do with me or my control. It wasn't as though I encouraged Quil to abandon us or something just as dubious. However in Jake' eyes, skewed by rage and frustration—I might add—saw it as my folly. It wasn't though.

I felt mildly hurt that he thought so lowly of me, and slightly betrayed. Most of all I was disturbed and felt pity for Jake, for resorting to such a low blow. It didn't matter though because Jake was stubborn as he was good-natured, and well, let's just say that this wasn't going to be all Hallmark and what not.

It was going to be tough, to make him see reason, but it was worth it, because he was Jake, my friend. Finally, my loyalty and more generous thoughts had been found and I decided to put such thoughts and feelings to use.

"Listen, I…" I sighed, not knowing how to explain myself, how to untangle such a mass of woven knots. I dropped my head, and leaned against his closed door, and I was sorely tempted to pull it open to see if Rachel was at the door listening.

"I know." Jake sighed, sounding less angry, and more like a friend with a guilty conscience and a semi-open mind. I didn't know how to approach this with out turning it into another argument, which I tended to do, with almost anything. _Great_, I thought wryly.

It was too difficult to work out. No matter which way I envisioned this argument, I knew I would be loosing something. If I was going to bring Jake bake into my life Sam would fall away, it was unavoidable. I had tried before to balance it all, not including a heated kiss, and I had epically failed. I could only imagine how painful it would be if I were to pursue Sam, and maintain a healthy friendship with Jake.

I had to make a decision, and now. There was not time to dabble in each. It was either the unknown, or the shit I had known for my entire life. It was not cut and dry. I knew that.

Jake. Sam. Which one?

Being the coward that I was I squished my eyes shut and found my decision settle into my stomach. I sighed, and opened my eyes, trying to wet my parched mouth.

Jake had been watching me, his eyes concerned, and much to my surprise he got up and turned away from me.

He sighed, "I know I'm wrong, but I just feel like you're going to end up leaving me too, you know?" His voice was small, not at all what I was used to, but my heart lurched and thumped painfully all the same.

He turned to face me, "It was wrong of me to blame you for Quil, but it is so messed up. I have no control, and it bothers me. So, I'm sorry, and I hope you can see that."

I nodded and I felt bad because all of what Jake was saying was true. He had hit the nail on the head. We had no control, there was know set formation and it did feel all the more intense; it felt as though we were being chased. No matter what, we both knew we were the prey, not the hunters.

I looked at Jake and smiled weakly, before walking over to him, and laying my hand on his arm, "Hey, I'm not going anywhere if I can help it." Those simple words said it all, I had made my decision.

Jake pulled me into a hug, and we silently wound our arms around each other, appreciating this moment of open dependency. I sighed, and breathed him in, trying to not feel like this was only temporary, and Jake would soon leave me as well.

I pushed the thoughts away, knowing I couldn't safely harbor them; they had led to our downfall. So I let them go, but something told me they would be back even though they weren't welcome.

I pulled away from Jake as he did to me, and said, "Okay this isn't some happy Disney film, let's get out of here, want to go to the diner?"

His face stretched, his cheeks rising with his blinding smile. He nodded his head and politely requested, "Let me just get changed first?"

I nodded and turned away, but not before I was stopped by Jake saying, "Bells, you do know that I really am sorry, right?" I turned around to face him and nodded, and replied, assuring him, "Yeah, I know. It's all in the past, okay?"

I didn't wait for his nod; instead I simply turned around and pulled open his bedroom door entering the hallway, half expecting to see Rachel waiting in the shadows. She wasn't, but I did find her in the living room, staring at the television, clearly not really absorbing what was taking place on the screen in front of her.

When I entered, leaning on the doorway, she looked up, her eyes full of questions she didn't know if she should articulate. I simply supplied, "All is well. We're going to the diner."

She smiled brightly, and I envied Jake. I wondered what it was like to have a sibling who so deeply cared. I shrugged inwardly, it didn't irk me, I was just curious. It must be something, to share that type of bond.

Jake strolled out of his room, looking comfortable in baggy jeans and a loose black short sleeved t-shirt. I pushed off the doorway already headed for the door as I heard Jake say, "Laters, Rachel."

We walked out the door, both of us silent. Some thing had changed, or was it me who had changed? For somehow it felt different, and I didn't know why. It wasn't like we weren't talking because we were still upset with each other, it was over, and I harbored no ill feelings towards Jake. Yet, still, turmoil churned in my stomach wrapping around my decision making me feel as though that not going to the diner would be good.

Jake, who had probably had enough of the silence said, "You know, I always liked the number two. It's a nice round number."

I smirked and he chuckled but it was all show. I knew that at this current moment that the only two people on my mind were me and Sam. I sighed inwardly, knowing that I couldn't continue what he wanted me two. I would have to suffer because of my own cowardly ways.

The diner wasn't far, but it certainly wasn't close. Right now I longed to be sitting in the bed of the truck, riding towards our next adventure. But I wasn't instead I was here, walking with my last best friend by my side, and I didn't know how long it would be before I was walking alone.

The thoughts were back, as if summoned, and I denied them, focusing on Jake's happy step and smile. I envied him right now, for even though I knew he was probably hurting just as much as I was, he was a great pretender. Something I was not.

The diner was in sight and I felt a little relieved, maybe if we went about our normal routines, I could get back some of my old self. I knew it was a foolish point but I would rather cling to it than face the facts head on.

We were close, and closing the last few steps as we pulled the door open. We entered, sliding into the closest booth. Once inside, sitting on the cracked leather I looked Jake in the eyes.

They were pained, obviously knowing I had changed, that we had changed, that things were different. Even though we had silently acknowledged these changes I found that I was okay with it. I knew that no matter what I was going to keep my promise, not only because it was a promise but because Jake was my best friend.

I slouched slightly, sagging with the weight of my words. I straightened a bit when the waitress came over, ordering a water. I was too quite, I noted that, but I was still wrestling with my decision.

I had chosen Jake, but still something within me wished I had chosen Sam. It didn't matter though, because hot kiss or no, I knew that it was safe to be around Jake. Plus, what if I had chosen Sam, leaving Jake alone to fend for himself? I shook my head, and felt my obligations tug on my conscience.

We sat in a comfortable silence, and I sighed, "Are you still grounded?" Jake looked up smiling before he chuckled, "Yeah, but Billy is out, so what he doesn't know won't hurt him. Are you?"

I mulled over my answer, not really knowing if I was or not. I mean my mom and dad let me go out, but it wasn't as though I was going out at night. Except when I went out with Sam. I internally groaned just thinking of Sam.

I quickly answered, "Pretty much."

I was about to move onto to something else, anything to keep the conversation up and going, but the bell over the door clanged loudly. I turned to see who had entered, but soon found my answer when I saw Sam, Quil, Embry, and Paul walk in.

I stiffened at the sight of Quil, the newest disciple to the group, and turned in my seat, to see Jake who was gripping his fork so tightly his knuckles were white pressed against his russet skin.

I laid my hand over his, prying his fingers away from the fork before he hurt himself. They passed by our table, and I felt Sam's eyes on me, the spiders crawling all over, alerting me. I inwardly winced and kept my head down, and I could practically see Sam's hurt frown.

I just wished that they would jeep walking, and it looked as though they would until Jake barked, "What are you looking at?"

He was being blatantly rude, and instantly a surge of anger rushed through me. Hwy couldn't he have kept quiet? Just this once. I groaned out loud and shot Jake a look he didn't catch, he was too busy glaring at Sam.

"Jake—"I warned trying to stop this before it got any worse, but it was too late, and Sam was already ready to shed some blood. "You know, you should just shut it, alright? I have every reason to bring you down to the station for the stunt you pulled the other night, but I didn't so show a little thanks, and respect."

"Respect?!" Jake exploded, jumping out from his seat, drawing attention to himself and Sam. "You want _me_ to give _you_ respect? No, I don't think so, you don't deserve it. Respect is something you earn, not just get because you're a police officer."

"Watch it, Jake." Paul interjected and I had had enough, "Would all of you just shut the hell up?" I took a deep breath and rattled out my next orders, "You," I said pointing at Jake, "Outside and I will deal with our bill."

Jake looked as though he wanted to say something more, but I just glared, this was unbelievable. Jake left grumbling all the way and I rolled my eyes. Sam was still staring at me, but I stuck my head around his huge frame, and asked our waitress who was passing by, "Can I get the bill?"

She nodded and scampered off to go get it. Mean while I stood leaning against the table, waiting for Sam to leave, however, he didn't and simply spoke to his minions, "Go sit down, I'll be there in a minute."

I exchanged a glance with Quil, who looked pained to see me, and I spared him a small smile, hoping he was okay. It looked like he was going to smile back, but Paul ushered him along, glancing back at me with an indifferent stare that held something more.

I looked away, and was faced with the sight of our waitress handing me the bill, I nodded in thanks and took it from her hand. She turned away, and I gazed at the simple numbers, still avoiding Sam. I could feel his heat, in from where I was, and I instantly flashed back to last night. How his hands felt, how hot his lips were…

I shook my head, and Sam reached down, and tipped my chin up by his finger, positioning me in a way so that I was looking directly at him, and more importantly, his eyes.

"Bella," His deep voice rumbled, and I wanted nothing more than to close the distance between is but I interrupted before he could say anything, "I'll talk to you later about it okay?"

Sam looked like he wanted more time, to say something, anything, but I shook my head, "It'll be okay, Sam. Just, later, okay?" My gaze flicked towards the door, subtly telling him that I wouldn't do this here, not with Jake.

He nodded and said, "Later, I'll come by." I nodded and pulled away, already walking towards the door. But as I did, I brushed my fingers lightly across the back of his hand, trying to silently sooth the fear and anger that had shot up in his eyes when I had refused to explain.

I didn't look back to see his reaction, not needing to, and I stepped out and into the outside. The damp air encircled me, cooling my temper, as I looked at Jake. Jake looked up as I came out and I through him a glance before I started walking.

We had walked a couple of steps before I angrily demanded, "Why did you do that?" I looked at him and saw that he was scowling, obviously not pleased. He shrugged and I continued to scold him, "Christ Jake, you have to be careful. I know you're angry, so am I, but we can't pick a fight with the guy who bailed us out once, and you twice."

He nodded, and groaned angrily, "I know! I just, fuck! I am so angry!" I nodded and said, "I know, Jake, I know."

I did know, but I had more to deal with. I had to face Sam later. I had to explain, and I didn't even know what to say. I just hoped that it wouldn't be too painful, because I don't think I can handle much more.

___

After our short trip to the diner, Jake went home, as did I. Billy was back, and Jake's steps were considerably heavy as he dragged himself up the steps. I simply smirked and left him to Billy.

That had been a while ago, and the only thing I could think of was Sam and how it was going to go. Would we argue? Would we end up hurting each other? Would I end making another promise I couldn't keep?

I ran a hand through my hair, my knee nervously jiggling as I sat on my desk chair. It was bouncing up and down as I tried to pin point what time 'later' was. I sighed, and ran my hands down my face attempting to calm my nerves.

Suddenly there was a sharp knock on our front door, and I peeked out of my window that faced the front of the house. It was only Harry Clearwater, my dad's fishing buddy. I sighed and turned away, cursing myself for the hope, and anticipation I had felt.

I heard someone coming up the stairs, but I remained facing the window, not wanting to deal with them. "Waiting for someone?" My mom asked with a smirk. I nodded wordlessly, and turned to face her. She smiled, and said, "He'll be here if he said he would be."

I scowled, and nodded, not knowing how she did that. How she hit the nail on the head, seeming to have read my mind. She turned and left, leaving me with my thoughts. I walked over to my bed, sitting down.

I lay back, and grabbed my book from my bedside table, flipping it open to where I had last left off. I, quite similar to my mother, found that once I was thoroughly immersed in a novel was unable to be drawn out of easily. So you can imagine my fright when I heard, "Is it any good?"

Sam's voice was loud in my silent room, and immediately I dropped my book, and said, "Jesus, you scared me!"

"Actually, my name is Sam, but you know, whatever works for you." Sam said cheekily, and I stuck my tongue out at him in response to his corny joke. I chuckled and said, "As much as my dad loves you, I suggest we take our conversation somewhere other than my room for the sake of my dad and his heart."

Sam laughed and I followed him out of my room. My heart was thudding with excitement and nerves as I descended the stairs. Part of me was elated to see him, but the other parts were nervous, and still holding onto the anger.

Once downstairs, we left, leaving my mom and dad to entertain Harry. We stepped out and silently crossed the road, I was leading him to the place I felt most comfortable: the beach.

As soon as my feet hit the sand, I released a breath, and looked up at Sam who was watching me with his confederate eyes. I smiled a little and then turned way, and began to try and explain, "As you already know, Jake isn't one of your biggest fans, so it would be really hard for him to see me around you, actually enjoying myself…"

I was stopped by Sam, turning me around by my shoulders, and saying while cupping me by my cheeks in his warm hands, "Don't do that," I looked at him cross eyed for a moment, not really understanding, "Don't, just don't, turn away from me."

We both knew he was pleading for something else, something more, and my heart sunk into the turmoil of my stomach as he did. With those simple words I knew I couldn't deny him. I couldn't do it. I was in too deep. I was becoming attached.

"Sam, Jake already exiled me once over you, I can't risk losing him." He drew away growling, and then angrily yelled, "Yet you're willing to risk losing me?" My hear broke and I yelled back, trying to bring him back, not knowing this would be so intense.

"Damn it! Don't make me choose! I can't!"

Sam glared and clenched his jaw shut before he said, "You won't have to choose. I won't make you." I knew he was upset, and I once again found myself willing to do anything to make it okay. To make him okay.

I felt cheap again, knowing he was appeasing me to make me feel better, even though he was probably more than upset. I walked towards him, and grabbed his limp hand. "I'm so sorry, Sam, I wish—"

He yanked his hand out of mine and once again lashed out, "That's all you do, you talk about you wishing it could be different, and yet you never do anything! You can make it different Bella! It doesn't have to be this way! I'm not asking you to marry me for Christ's sake; I am asking you to give me an honest chance."

A lump rose in the back of my throat, and in a weak voice I asked, "What if I can't do that?" He let out a breath, and shook his head before pleading, "Please, I won't make you do anything, but I am begging you to just try. We don't have to do anything you don't want to, just please give me a chance."

I nodded my head, and said, "Okay, okay."

Sam looked at me in surprise; clearly he had not anticipated such a response. I turned my gaze away from him and onto the beach floor. The sand was soft under my feet, looking exceptionally pale today, and I was ready to start counting the grains as the silence stretched on.

Sam once again cupped my cheeks, and tilted my head back, "Hey, everything is okay. I'm fine. We're fine." I looked into those eyes and found that what he was saying was true, that he meant it. I nodded, and said, "Yeah?"

Sam smiled, and nodded. With that I wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling him into a comfortable hug. His long arms settled around me, holding me to him, keeping me grounded.

It was there with my cheek pressed against his hear that I noted two things:

One, I had made another promise, not knowing if I would be able to keep it, and two; I was utterly fascinated and enthralled by Sam Uley. I had broken my promise to myself; I had let my wrists be tied down. I was just another puppet. But somehow, here in his arms, it didn't seem so bad.

**A/N: Sorry for the slow update to you all who have been waiting. Happy Thanksgiving to all those American girls out there. I know it's a bit late, but whatever. **

**I saw New Moon…and DAMN! It was good, and, well, it could be that they went shirtless the entire time…but whatever. I thought it was pretty good in regards to the novel; they kept it close fro the most part. **

**Anyway I hoped you all liked this chapter, and I would love some reviews, and sorry to all who thought Sam and Bella would be all couple-y in this chapter, they just aren't ready for that. **

**Well, other than that, that's it, and by the way reviews make me happy and inspire me to write more. Plus I love them... so click that button! Please? **


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Thanks for all the awesome feedback, I feel so honored and humbled for some of the comments that were made. Especially by the reader 'the inc pot', thank you so much. Thanks to all who have read, and reviewed, I never anticipated such an amount of response and support. But seriously thanks so much, I feel very appreciative and grateful. **

**I would liked to give a recommendation, if any of you are in love with Bella/Sam pairings as much as I am you seriously need to read this story:**

**Alpha Fail by ****lifelesslylyndsey's**

**Check that story out it is one of my favorites. **

**This chapter is going to be tough, so just you know, don't kill me it the end. **

**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, ideas, etc. belong to the creative S.M.—no copyright infringement intended. **

**Boarders**

**Chapter Eleven: Simon says don't make promises you can't keep, Bella says piss off**

My life was a horrible rendition of that stupid game that every person plays when they are growing up. Simon says: touch your nose, raise your hand…Only in my life I cannot seem to keep up with all the orders I have given myself.

I had thought that when I had explained to Sam I would be able to walk away, to say no. To be able to tell him that I couldn't cope with what was happening to me, to be able to tell him that I was scared at what was happening how I felt, and how sudden it all was. I wish I could have told him that I was clinging to any normalcy that I had left, that being Jake.

And Jake, Sam was not.

I didn't know how I had managed to walk away from Sam, another promise haven been made. It was ridiculous. I needed a muzzle, desperately.

That was the thing though; I couldn't seem to control myself around him. Everything was intense, and seemed that it could make or break me. I felt this thing, this thing that made me ache when he was around, that made my palms sweat and my heart flutter, and throb painfully all at once.

I wasn't pleased, and it needed to stop. I wanted it to get better, to just go away, to leave me be, and let me live. I couldn't though, it was too much, and some part of me knew that this wasn't a temporary condition. Something told me that this was permanent fixture, nothing to be taken lightly.

I groaned, and tried not to think to hard about it. I was analyzing this to an extent where I didn't know where it stopped and began. It was all too confusing. I knew I had all these facts, but I was missing the elemental and profound thought that would make me see it all as one big picture.

My thoughts drifted away from the confusion and onto the things I knew. I had walked away from Sam just two hours ago, and I didn't really know what I had promised. Was he thinking I had promised him a chance at wooing me? A chance at being my friend? I didn't know, but I knew I wanted the latter. It would only be worse if Sam attempted a relationship with me. Things would get sloppy and I knew I would loose Jake, and possibly Sam.

I clenched my eyes shut, and raked my hand through my hair. My hand got caught in the strands multiple times, due to the fact I had spent some time near the strong winds of the ocean.

I was currently in my living room staring blankly at the television screen that was off, I am sure I made quite the picture. I took a deep breath and released it in a sigh. I needed something to do, anything. My knee was bouncing in an anxious rhythm that I didn't appreciate.

I was growing frustrated with each passing moment, knowing it was ticking down to my time with Sam. The time would I would have no control, when I was out of my element. When I was no better than a fish out of water, but as comfortable as a fish _in_ the water. It was a conundrum, one that I didn't like.

It was right now, then dinner would be served momentarily, and then it would be seven. Time for my time in purgatory. I guess it was a bit cruel to compare my time with Sam to purgatory, but it was like that. I felt so torn and ultimately helpless when I was around Sam. Yet I still felt somehow at ease.

I was staring at the screen, still, I know pathetic, when my dad came in and disturbed me with his loud voice, or at least loud to me.

"Dinner is ready." He left me with that, and I took another longer and deeper breath before standing and stretching. My muscles stretched and pulled in the most pleasurable way, and I found myself smiling.

I loped into the kitchen, sitting down at the table that we had put in years ago. The table was set, ready and waiting. My mother, as if having heard my thoughts came in with the food setting it on the table before flitting around a bit more and taking her seat beside my father.

I dug in; quenching the appetite I had worked up in my nervous state. I stared at my plate before me, half the contents in my stomach, I paused momentarily, my thoughts returning to my current situation.

I shoveled the food into my mouth mechanically, completely set to auto-pilot. I didn't know how to handle myself around Sam tonight. Obviously I had made some type of a commitment, one that I wasn't fully versed in. Up until now I had treated him poorly, and been a complete and total bitch, so what did I do now? I had told him I was giving him a clean slate, but could I actually do that? Could I let go, just for a little bit of all that he had done to me and my friends? Was it even possible?

Further more, was I being a traitor to Jake, Quil, Paul and Embry but indulging in this craving that I have seemed to have suffered form ever since that night? I didn't have the answers to my questions, and part of me didn't want to know them.

Earlier, before Sam and this entire situation had happened, I had complained and resigned that I didn't want to live in La Push for the very reason of its predictability. So why now was I hoping for my questions to be answered, so that I would know what my future would be like. For as long as I could remember I wanted a life that was spontaneous, fresh, new, anything but what I had in La Push. Yet, I was living out what I wanted, _in_ La Push.

Part of me argued that what was happening currently was different, that it didn't count as being unpredictable, new, or exciting because of the fact that it had happened now, and it didn't fit my vision. I had thought that once I left this place that was located next to bum-fuck-nowhere things would start changing, happening; never had I anticipated it happening while I was still stuck in La Push.

Regardless of these matters, I was still at a loss.

All I could do was wait. Wait and see.

Hurry up and wait, _Great._

___

Now, here, at this precise moment, waiting seemed like a fabulous pass time. Fantastic, even, because right now Sam was at my door waiting for me to open it, to have me let him in. However, I couldn't promise that, because Sam was anticipating a fresh start and I didn't know what that meant or required.

I tilted my head up, straightening my posture before firmly grasping the door knob, the metal feeling cool against my warm sweaty hands—already it starts, Christ all mighty I haven't even seen him and I am already nervous. I pulled the door open revealing a Sam clad in his uniform.

I was once again reminded of the difference between the two of us. Goose bumps rose, all due to the aura that dangerous he emanated, I, once again in a moot point attempted to look taller and just as all-powerful but I was failing, epically.

Not only did Sam exude something I lacked he was far taller than me, bulkier, just big. That was the only way to say it, Sam was far bigger than me, and I found myself briefly wondering whether or not I seemed small to him. I shook my head and grabbed my bag that had been ready and waiting by the door before I called out, "Later Mom, see you in the morning!"

The phrase alone as it fell from my lips seemed strange, I brushed off trying to quiet the musings I seemed to have often. I kept my head down, angled away from Sam. I knew he was staring at me now, that parade marching along the right side of my scalp, and I could almost see his frustrated frown.

Still I was turned away, utterly awkward, and completely lost. I felt stupid, young, incredibly inadequate, and utterly incompetent. I sagged with the weight of my diagnosis, not appreciating the self pity that rushed in to comfort me.

What was happening to me? Since when I had I let myself get so introverted? Since when was I so affected? Since when did I become a weakling?

_Since_ _Sam_, a wise voice whispered in my head. I stiffened momentarily, but shrugged it off as I slipped into the car, Sam having opened the door open for me. I rolled my eyes at this, and felt like snapping that I could open it myself, that I wasn't completely inept and incapable in his presence.

I settled into my seat wit a frown, not knowing why I was so irked, so upset. I knew I was frustrated to an extant where I felt angry. I was angry with myself for making stupid decisions, for making stupid promises. I was angry that I had let it go to an extent where Sam affected me, my decisions, and myself.

When did I start catering to others? _Since_ _Sam_. When did I start feeling guilty, like _I_ had to make _him_ happy? _Since Sam. _When did I begin to start caring about him and what he thought of me? When did I start this bullshit?!

_Sam, Sam, Sam, _my inner voice chanted as I worked myself into a frenzy of anger.

"You alright?" Sam asked concerned, like the good asshole…erm…guy that he was. _Sam_, I grumbled inwardly, noting that he had pestered me yet again and drawn my focus to him.

I clenched my jaw and met his gaze for the first for this evening. Instantly when I met his eyes, my anger quieted, if only slightly, and I knew, just by the hope and child-like elation that were there within those penetrative orbs that I couldn't be mad. Not now, not after I had told him that I was giving him a chance.

I sighed inwardly, resigning to it, and noted that as my lips turned upward slightly, my anger slithered down into my stomach, coiled there, waiting for the best possible moment to launch.

I looked at him and placated, "Yeah, just tired." I knew that I didn't look anything like what I was saying, in fact I was strangely alert, and Sam noted this as well, however, I pleaded with him—mentally of course—and inwardly prayed he would leave it alone.

I was trying really hard not to snap at him and let out all the anger that I had in my stomach and heart out, the least he could do was leave me be.

Sam, as if having read my mind, looked away, and I saw his shoulders slump, in only what I presume as defeat and disappointment. My heart did this weird lurch thing, and I found myself brooding in my own disappointment, knowing that this was never going to be easy.

I sighed and offered meekly, "I'm sorry, this is just so weird for me, I feel so awkward." _Great_, now I can add professing sappy feelings to people I know to my list of how I have changed.

Sam didn't look at me, but instead tightened his jaw and asked, well rather demanded, "Why, why is this so hard? Why do you feel so awkward?"

I shook my head, could we not just be silent, or maybe possibly hold a conversation that wasn't an argument? I didn't want to know, maybe it was me who was causing it, but I didn't really think it was all me, Sam wasn't exactly the greatest conversationalist. Who was I kidding? I didn't even know what his conversational skills were like, let alone if they were horrible as I imagined them to be.

I shrugged my shoulders and sighed. "I don't know…it just feels so weird. I mean all the shit that had happened and I just don't know how to handle myself around you."

I briefly saw him wince from my peripheral vision, but I pretended like I didn't, not wanting to acknowledge another time I had inadvertently hurt him. I looked out the window, awaiting the response he would deliver soon.

"Just, I know how corny and cliché this sounds but, just be yourself," He turned to look at me then, and with the most earnest voice I had ever heard he finished, "Bella, I like you as you are. I like who you are. I don't need or want you to change, or even feel like you have to be someone different around me."

My heart swelled at his words and how genuine they seemed to be, but my more practical side beat the warm mushy feelings down with an iron fist. I simply nodded along with his words, knowing that he was being honest, but having a hard time wrapping my head around about just how honest he actually was.

Sam was still looking at me, and I was still looking out the window. I was still hiding. I heard him sigh, and I wanted to look at him, meet his gaze again but I could muster the will. I was doing what I did best, I was hiding, I was being a coward.

Sam was the brave one between the two of us. He was the one sticking his neck out, offering me anything, willing to take anything I would be willing accept, and my heart broke a little at the thought. I was probably sucking him dry, and I didn't know how to stop. I was being selfish, I was being who I was and I didn't know what I wanted more: to continue and pretend like I hadn't changed, or stop and face what was happening head on.

Regardless, and not at all listening to the wise musings I had conjured up I still looked out of the window, and hoped that this night would move quickly. It probably wouldn't, but a girl could hope, for the most part.

"Don't do it Bella," Sam ordered, looking at me—I could feel it. "Don't shut me out after you promised not to, you can't do this Bella. You can't do this not to me."

The way he spoke to me, as if I were something more than the teenager he carted around almost every other night. It ruffled something in me, and I took a deep breath recognizing the truth behind his words. However, for the life of my I couldn't look at him.

I knew that now, looking at him would tear down my shredded, and in tatters resolve. But he was right; I could not do it to him. I couldn't, it wouldn't be fair, nor would it be right.

So with my courage mustered and ready I turned my gaze to him and said, "And yet you can do anything to me?"

My voice was cold and dethatched, resigned to the fact that probably even after our soon-to-be argument; I would probably end up remaining ensnared by his very being. I held his gaze, my heart lurching, knowing that I was entering a battle I wasn't ready for. Knowing I was about to hurt him, and probably not going to stop it.

Sam looked at me with a level gaze, trying to hide the recognition in his eyes. He knew what I was referring to and was going to play dumb, I snarled inwardly and attempted to rein my anger in.

"What Bella, what do I do?" Sam asked, his voice slightly incredulous, but mostly anxious. Anxious for my next judgment, my next blow.

I didn't hold my tongue like I should have, I didn't hold back like I was probably supposed to, instead, I just winged it, and that probably wasn't the best idea either. Winging it was over rated.

"What have you done to me?! What _haven't_ you done to me?! You've taken my entire social circle save for one, you make me feel things I shouldn't be feeling! You make me want things that aren't my desires! You've change me! You've altered my life, and you…you don't even tell me why! You dismiss me like I'm nothing and treat me like a child, even when I am asking simple questions! You…you…"

I was panting by the end, having released it all, quite tired from all of it being pent up. But I realized something during my rant, this was me letting go. This was me wiping the slate clean, as painful as it may have been, it had been necessary.

"Are you quite finished?" Sam asked in that superior tone that made me want to shout, scream, and bow down all at once. I was about to snap out my thoughts but thought against it when I saw the steely anger behind his eyes.

"Believe me it wasn't my intention to make you feel anything less than that of an equal but I see I have failed miserably. I…I know you want answers, but I can't give them, not just yet anyway, soon though, I promise. I don't mean to act the way I do Bella, it's the way I am programmed to be…I just hope that you're still willing to give me a chance since I am such a monster who goes around changing people and destroying their lives."

Sam finished bitterly, fixing me with a frightening glare that was half anger, half disgust. I shrank back in my seat, and silence settled upon us heavily.

_Way to go me, I had managed to upset him yet again, great, just fucking peachy, _I thought.

I knew I had upset him, that much was obvious. A part of me felt upset and disturbed that I had angered him again, but another part of me was relieved that I had let it out and finally to him the majority of what I had been feeling tonight.

So with my heart in my throat I tried to think of a way to solve this. I eyed his hand that was resting to comfortably on the little arm rest thing they put between the two seats.

I stared at it for a long while documenting all the details as I tried to debate whether or not to let him brood or grab his hand. Was I allowed to do that? I mean we had kissed, so what was wrong with holding his hand? Would it be weird if I did?

Fuck it, I thought, and tentatively placed my hand in his, lacing my fingers through his own lengthy ones. I squeezed when I felt his surprise, and before he could say anything I said in a small voice, "I'm sorry Sam. I'm just really scared of what going on, I'm really confused and frustrated, and I have no idea what I am doing, obviously."

Sam smirks, and squeezes back, before saying just as quietly, "No worries. I'm sorry for snapping at you. I know you're confused, but until I can give you some answers, just do me a favor and try and…well…stay calm."

I notice that I have an opportune window to pull my hand out of his and let it return to where it would normally be, but I didn't fee the need, so I just squeezed again, silently telling him that I understood.

With my hand still in his, I knew that I had a good grip, and I would make sure to hold on tight, because I knew this wasn't going to be easy, it was going to be a rocky one.

__

The night went smoothly for the most part, nothing really happening other than a kid who tried to run from Sam, just like I had. He was probably even drunker than I had been that night, but regardless Sam had taken him down just as easily.

That had been around eleven, it was now two o'clock, in the morning, and I was just about ready to scream out of boredom. Everything was moving slowly, including my game of twenty questions with Sam.

"Can I fit it in an envelope?" Sam asked looking at me confused. Finally, I exploded, chortling through my speech, "Dude, it's a basket ball! And you asked way more than twenty questions!"

Sam laughs with me, but it is short lived due to the fact that the radio chirps and crackles its interruption while he is mid-way through his laugh. I stare at the radio, to which Sam responds rattling off some police-coded-response I didn't know the meaning to.

We speed off to our destination, and call it some sort of weird feeling but I knew this was big, something had happened. I try not to let my imagination go but it's too late and I am imagining all sorts of horrible things and I quickly shout over the sirens, "What happened?"

Sam looks at me before he shouts back, "Some hiker on the boarder got killed, think it might be an animal attack!"

I know there is more to it, that Sam is holding out on me, but I accept, knowing it would do know good to ponder it now, knowing I would be receiving no answers. So, resigning to my lack of information I watch as the trees blur and melt together at our heightened speed.

Finally we reach the boarder where clusters of emergency response teams wait. There is an ambulance, a police car, including my father's, and some other vehicles. I'm not really paying attention, half dozing half alert.

The car comes to a slow, smooth stop and we both get out. Without Sam having to tell me I lean up against the passenger side door, and wave him off while he is still smiling.

The air chilly now and I am grateful that my sweater is so thick. I pull the sleeves down so that they cover my hands all the way to the tips of my fingers. I look around, the tall trees swaying in the light but firmly forceful wind. As I continue to examine my surroundings, I note—even in my limbo hazy mind—that Jake is here.

I see him sitting on the edge of the raised vehicle that is Eli's ambulance, which doors are open, shedding light into the darkness that seems to encase the boarder. I also noted that there were officers from both La Push and Forks, I guess since it was right on the boarder they were going to have to flip a coin or some shit.

It didn't make a difference to me, so I stumbled over to Jake, my fatigue taking its toll. Jake saw me and hopped off the elevated vehicle. I was there by now, and Jake wordlessly helped me to get up and onto the high off the ground car-thing-truck…ambulance.

I sat beside Jake, watching my leg swing back and forth as they dangled. "So how's you're night going?" My jaw stretched with a yawn as he said, "Good, good, boring, but whatever. Do you know what's going on here?"

I nodded, blinking quickly, hating that when you yawned your eyes watered, "Yeah, some hiker was attacked by an animal. No word on who it is or if they are okay…but it didn't sound good."

Jake nodded and scrunched up his nose before asking, "Since when did we start having problems with animals?"

I shrugged my shoulders in response and scooted closer so that I could comfortably lean in Jake's shoulder. He raised his arm and tucked me into his side in response, and I closed my eyes, relishing in the warmth that he provided. He wasn't probably much warmer than me, but I was tired and I tended to get really cold when I was, so Jake could have been a space heater and it wouldn't have made a difference.

I knew as I slipped into exhaustion that we were going to be at the boarder for a while, so why not get some rest?

It felt like I had been asleep for two minutes as I felt Jake nudging me out of sleep. I forced my eyes open even though they felt unbearably heavy. I noted I felt disoriented, sleep still strong over my brain.

I rubbed my eyed and groaned, "Why did you wake me up?"

Jake chuckled and said, "Because Eli is on his way back and I can only assume we'll be leaving, you too, because Sam is talking to Eli as we speak."

I looked towards them in reaction to Jake identifying that yes, there were indeed on there way over here. I sighed, still resting against Jake while I asked, "What time is it?"

"Time for you to get a watch." He said cheekily, and I leaned away for punch in the arm, specifically the bicep, before returning to my position. "Seriously, the time, please?" I asked, and he chuckled.

"It's just about three." He said, rubbing my arm, trying to warm me up. I heard that weird growl sound that only Sam made, and I looked up and scowled at him, as did Jake. It didn't deter him though, he was still scowling and I rolled my eyes, now feeling uncomfortable in Jake's arms.

I sighed and pulled away, hopping down, hitting the ground with a thump as a result of my clunky combat boots. Sam walked away before I had the chance to approach him and walk away with him. I rolled my eyes again and waved good bye to Jake.

I trailed Sam, grumbling under my breath, angry at him for being so over bearing and possessive. I mean I wasn't even his to begin with…and plus, it was Jake, just Jake.

As we approached the car, I noted that Sam still held my door open and I slipped in inwardly rolling my eyes. Sam entered after running quickly around the front end of the car. When he entered the atmosphere was tense and I smirked and said, quoting him, "You know, it is okay, if you know…you are jealous."

His scowl grew fiercer as he tried to hold back his laughter and to put the icing onto of the cake I said, "C'mon, you know you want to, laugh Sam, laugh."

With that we both broke into cackles, equally loud and humorous. After a while our laughter died down and settled and when it was finished I tacked on quietly, "Seriously though, Sam, it was just Jake…he's a friend, nothing else."

He nodded but I could tell he was still worried. I kludged him and offered a smile, one that was genuine.

So this is what it felt like. I was giving him a chance, and it didn't seem too painful.

__

Sam and I finished the shift, it having passed quickly, and I was currently sitting in a booth at Sue's diner, sipping on my much needed coffee. I was taking large slurps, hoping it would wake me up a little.

Sam sat across from me sipping on his own coffee and after setting my now half empty mug down, I asked, "So who was the hiker? Were they from Forks?"

Sam shook his head and supplied, "No she was one of ours, still working on identifying her body. All we know that it was pretty gruesome."

I nodded and knew that he was withholding information, all giving me the knowledge I needed, to placate me. While I was briefly annoyed I was too tired to push him for more information.

I was also almost positive that whatever he was withholding on purpose had everything to do with his god damned secret. If I just knew, it would explain it. However, sadly, I didn't and I didn't think I was going t find out any time soon. I scowled into my coffee, trying to hide it, but I failed, and Sam raised an eye brow.

I just shook my head and continued to sip.

I didn't feel like answering. If he wouldn't give me answers I wouldn't give him any. I knew it was childish and petulant, but after staying up this long, I couldn't give a rat's ass if I was being polite.

The waitress came over with our food, which both Sam and I gobbled up quickly, and I was just reaching fore a piece of my fresh Texas Toast when Sam reached out and grabbed it before shoving it in his mouth.

"Hey!" I yelled, letting him know just how unimpressed I was. He shrugged and smiled and I just scowled and said, "That was the last piece! You owe me another."

He chuckled and around _my_ piece of toast he rumbled out, "Next time."

I smirked, sat back rubbing my stomach, I had eaten too much. Inwardly I shrugged, and took a sip my coffee.

We sat for a bit and soon the waitress came over with our bill after we requested it, placing it down on the table with two mints. In spite I stole Sam's mint, and shoved both in my mouth before he had a chance to get his back.

He chuckled and shrugged before paying, much to my displeasure and protests. We left the diner after that both of us eager to get home to our beds where we could sleep. I was so tired that I didn't even object in any manner when Sam opened my door for me.

I gladly entered the car, and was happy that the ride home didn't take long. When we saddled up in front of my house, I yawned and asked, "So will I see you on Sunday?"

Sam frowned and I clarified, "I was serious when I said I memorized your schedule Sam. You work every second Sunday, so this Sunday or no?"

Sam chuckled and said, "Nope." With that I let myself out of his car, telling him to have a good weekend through a yawn.

I stumbled into the house, kicking off my boots, immediately headed for my bedroom. Once there, I flopped down onto my bed, knowing I would probably be asleep before I even go the chance to change into pajamas.

With a resigned acceptance I let exhaustion take me, and even in that haze I noted one thing:

Giving Sam a chance hadn't been that hard and maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe I had made a promise I might actually be able to keep.

**A/N: I think I did good with a reasonably quick update. Sorry chapter was short but oh well. I am not impressed with the chapter; it feels like its lacking in some way. Anyway let me know what you think in a review it would be greatly appreciated. **

**Anyway hope you liked it…sorry for the shortness. **

**Regardless here is your playlist: [Sorry for not posting one last week…I completely spaced and forgot....oops…sorry]**

**The Bucket—Kings of Leon**

**Be Somebody—Kings of Leon**

**Sick Muse—Metric**

**Get Over It—Ok Go**

**Here We Go Again—Ok Go**

**Please review…thanks for reading!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. Sorry last week was just filler, but it was necessary. Prepare for the drama….Mwa ha, ha, ha, ha! So exciting…back to the drama which I love. And the angst. Can't forget the angst…anyway I hope you like this chapter, and well…don't be too mad. It is just getting better and better and better. **

**Sorry for the slow…super slow update.**

**Disclaimer—I do not own anything. At all. All characters, settings and other workings of S.M all belong to her. **

**Boarders**

**Chapter Twelve: How had I not seen this coming?**

I had done it. I had survived an entire week. All the while I was with Sam. I was mildly proud, but slightly ashamed. I hadn't stuck to my promises. I had caved and taken the easy route. I had let myself fall into the trap that seemed to have caught everyone else, and how could I judge them, when in reality, I was one of them? But at the same time, what I had done couldn't be arguably 'easier'. I couldn't say that the last couple of days had been easy.

It hadn't been easy, and what really scared the living daylights out of me was the fact that all of this messed up shit had happened over the past week. There are seven days to a week. In seven—such a small, insignificant number compared to people who got the feelings I did over the span of a couple of weeks—I had managed to surrender myself over to Sam. Not completely, and certainly not entirely, but I had let him invade my space just enough that he affected me.

That was what probably sucked the most. He _affected_ me. Sam took my right to a normal life away. I was constantly, or at least when I was with him, attempting to achieve some approval. I was trying to be the perfect good little girl that Sam would accept with open arms.

And I was epically failing. I bet it was painful to watch too.

I didn't know how this was happening. This was not right, it was not normal, and it certainly wasn't me. I was just so god damned tired of it being like this. I was so tired of having these weird reactions to Sam. It was too much, and I was getting fed up.

As if it weren't bad enough that my heart would erratically beat around him, my palms would sweat, and panic and excitement wrestled in my stomach—it was getting worse. I had grown accustomed to a lot of things; knowing that these reactions only happened around Sam. But now, I felt like I was in pain, now that I wasn't around him. It wasn't a searing pain that crippled me, it was just this dull ache that was faint enough to ignore comfortably.

It was Saturday, and I felt like I was in withdrawal. I was suffering because of whatever was happening.

It was this pathetic throb, one that made me want to look Sam's address up. I knew I wasn't that desperate, but Christ if I wasn't annoyed. Frowning I rubbed my warm palm over where my heart lay, and took in a deep breath. It had started this afternoon, having been away from Sam for a while now.

I knew it was linked to him, and I was furious, having come to the conclusion that he must know what is happening to me, and he wasn't doing anything. He was letting me suffer. I was positive he knew. Call it what you will, either I was wrong or I was completely bang on. It didn't matter; in my mind I was right.

I was in my bedroom, lying down, and feigning illness. I didn't want to deal with my mother's concerned looks, my father's curious stares. I couldn't do it. Not today. I was too tired. I was trying so very hard to act like I normally did, but I knew I was missing something. I knew it, and I was just to way out to even consider salvaging a past persona that such a chore.

Here, on my bed, I was ready for sleep even though I had just woken only two hours earlier. I had woken up at twelve, severely tired, and in desperate need of sleep. But I knew I had to wake up or I wouldn't be able to sleep tonight.

It was hard to believe it had only been two hours and I was already ready to sleep again. However fate wasn't ready, and I knew this when my phone chirped as my eyes drooped closed.

Disoriented and sick of it all, I reached blindly for my phone. I curled my hand around its buzzing self and brought it to my ear as I sat up.

"Hello?" I rasped through my tired state. I hadn't paid any mind to the caller identification, so I had know idea as to who could be on the other line.

"I'm next." Jake sighed, and for a moment I was confused, not knowing exactly what he was referring to.

"Huh?" I asked stupidly, not fully out of my confused state. I wasn't following, and I ran my free hand through my hair, tugging at the roots, hoping to bring alertness on via pain. It failed, but I was jerked into alertness by Jake's next comment.

"I'm next. I know it, Bells. Sam has been sniffing around all day, talking to my dad, and…I am so freaked out right now."

"Hold it, slow down. Just because he has been around your dad, who is on the council I might add, does not mean that he is after you," I attempted to soothe him with my rationalizations, but judging by the impatient sigh that Jake had just released, I doubted I was helping.

"You don't get! Both him and my own dad were looking at me as if I was going to explode or something." Jake aid defensively, albeit angrily.

"Whoa, I would like to keep my head on my shoulders please. No need to be snippy. Okay, so maybe…you are, you know, next." My sentence ended pitifully, and my heart was in my stomach, fraying with nerves and panic, making me feel nauseous.

"But I don't want to be next. I don't want it. I don't want to join." Jake said in a small, maybe even scared voice.

"There's nothing we can do. Just promise me that you'll take care of Quil, and…just tell him I forgive him." I sighed, resigning to the fact that maybe Jake was next.

I wanted to push it under; I wanted to believe that this was different. That Sam was just talking to Billy about a Council matter or meeting, but both Jake and I knew, that no, no this wasn't the case. Jake was next. We both know we couldn't change it. All we had to do was wait.

My heart broke, and all at once I allowed it all to carry me away. Tears gathered and spilled, running hotly and embarrassingly over my cheeks. I hiccupped at the intensity, trying to hold in the sob that was threatening to break through my iron clad resolve.

"Bella," Jake said softly, noting my state of distress. "Honey, I will never leave you."

"Don't!" I sobbed my voice thick and mutilated. "Don't do that…don't make a promise you can't keep, damn it Jake!"

I was so angry, so tired, and so ready to crumble and have someone string me back together. I heard Jake swallow audibly, and he said, "Bells, I…I won't. I swear—"

I cried out in anguish, not wanting his sweet nothings. I had had enough of the coddling. Enough of the lies, the hidden secrets. I was just so angry. I was going to leave him before he could leave me.

"Bye Jake. I love you. Be good."

With that I hung up. The phone falling into my lap deftly, not making a sound. I didn't make a sound, unless the sound of a wound opening in your chest was audible. I gasped in pain, and knew that this was what it felt like to be alone.

The world wasn't still like I was. It went on. Even though it felt like it shouldn't be. It should stop with me. I heaved another sob, and brought my knees up to my chest, curling up and laying my head on my knees. From this position I watched as my tears fell from my hot cheeks, dampening and tainting me.

I roughly wiped my hand over my face when my phone chirped, and buzzed, knowing it was Jacob. I shook my head, and as if it was possible the pain in my chest throbbed to life with a new intensity. It was as though it was seeking comfort in the mass panic and chaos that was running through me.

"Stop!" I whimpered, laying my hand over my heart yet again, hoping to sooth it, to stop it. It didn't work and I frowned and winced all at once.

I took deep breaths, ones that were wavering. My tears were calm now, no sobs, just the soundless drip as the salty water fell from my face and onto my clothes.

I pressed the 'ignore' button on my phone, not wanting Jake to persuade me. It would just hurt more in the end; I knew that, no use in clinging to what was already lost. I shook my head when my phone chirped again, buzzing violently. I frowned and look down, seeing a number I didn't know.

"Hello?" I said warily, my voice scratchy from my over exerted vocal muscles. I expected it to be a wrong number but I was unpleasantly surprised when I heard his voice.

"Bella, hey, I just wanted to call and see if you were all right, I just got this feeling…" Sam said.

And to my utter shock, and horror, the ache of my heart lessened and slipped into duller aching beat. I scowled and with my most malicious anger, and spite I said.

"Don't ever fucking call me. I don't want to talk to you. Leave. Me. Alone." I hung up quickly, not wanting to be tricked into forgiving him, knowing that's what would happen if I stayed long enough to hear him plead his pathetic, annoying case.

I sat on my bed, tired, and absolutely fucked.

I didn't even want to know how Sam got my number that shit was verging on stalker behavior. I smirked, mirthlessly of course, and felt more tears pour. I hiccupped pathetically, and welcomed the soothing rush.

I knew that Sam was going to call back, demanding the answers he didn't deserve. I didn't owe him shit. I had given him his chance, and he fucked me over. Asshole. My more rational side played the Devil's advocate, and scolded me that it was not Sam's fault, it was involuntary. But my more manic, angry side, blamed Sam.

Blamed him for his secrets, his stupidity for stealing my friends. All of them. Is this what he wanted? To see me alone, but most of all, in pain?

I didn't know. I didn't want to know.

I shook my head this was so messed up. The worst part was that it was my messed up life. All because of Sam. It was rather scary how quick my allegiances changed; I had gone from submission to defiance all in one phone call.

I laughed, it sounding sad, and utterly terrible. I couldn't be bothered to further my own pity party, and I took a deep breath.

I knew that I was certainly not giving Sam a chance any more. I was mad. I was so angry that he had done this to me. Everything, he had taken all my friends, having succeeded in isolating me completely, all without any explanations. I had no idea why I was alone, no idea what was happening to me, why my heart was failing me.

My heart thumped violently, like a tattoo on my chest as it writhed in pain. I shook my head and groaned, muffling it with my pillow.

All I wanted were some explanations, was that too much to ask for? Sam demanded explanations and a plethora of answers from me constantly, why couldn't I have the same? I frowned, not appreciating the double standard. This was so unfair, I complained inwardly.

Just as I closed my eyes, there was a sharp rap on the door. The three swift knocks were to a foreign rhythm, and I mildly curious, so with my painful heart throbbing I stood up and walked over to my window. I peeked out from the curtains, and saw Shelby, Sam's car.

Shit.

This was not good, this was horrific.

Faster than I thought I could, I scrambled into my bed, throwing the covers over, feigning sleep, or rest. I was hoping that if someone thought that I was sick I would be left alone. I shut my eyes, trying to relax them, to stop them from moving, but it felt like no matter what I did someone was going to be able to tell that I was really just resting my eyes.

I rolled over, just as I heard my mother's voice float up the stairs, "Bella! Sam is here to see you!"

I scrunched my eyes shut, cringing slightly, waiting for her next order. She shouted my name again, and I ignored it, restlessness settling in my stomach. My heart throbbed again, as if it knew Sam was here. I groaned inwardly, and then stopped the moment I heard my father's boots climbing the steps to my room.

My father's familiar foot falls grew louder the closer he got, and my shoulders hunched up on instinct, hoping he would leave me be. I knew it was a moot point, but I clung to it none the less.

My door opened, I knew this even though my back was facing it. I tried to resemble a person that was sleeping but my father sighed and said, "You've always been a terrible actress Bella, why start practicing now?"

I scowled at his jibe, and attempted to hold in my witty remark. "You've always said that it's never too late."

My father snorted in response, and smartly replied, "You're right, and it is never too late to be polite, practice your manners."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Sam could practice his manners and give me my answers, or just leave me the hell alone. Which ever was easiest, I couldn't say.

My silence was taken as an invitation, and my father sat down on the bed—it sinking with his weight. I rolled over to face him, and he began is rendition of the Spanish Inquisition.

"I know that this is not what you had in mind for your summer vacation, but I hate to say it, that this is what you got. You brought it on, and if Sam as come out, on his own time, to just discuss it with you, than I suggest you should find some decency and go and talk to him."

My father was gently scolding me, and I understood, right up until the point where he began to say that Sam had come here to talk about my sentence.

"That's what he said it was about?!" I shrieked, not appreciating Sam's clever lies.

"What else would it be about?" My dad said with an arched eyebrow. He looked at me as though I had a secret, which I did, but wasn't planning on sharing.

"Fine!" I groaned, throwing off my covers off and sitting up. My dad left silently, closing the door, before yelling to Sam that I would be down in a moment.

Anticipation filled my restless stomach, but it was washed out quickly by the pain of my heart. I instantly knew that as much as I hated this, I was going have to see him, on a purely selfish basis. I mean, fuck, I was not going to walk around with my chest aching as though there was a wound there.

I sat on my bed mentally preparing myself as I laced up my combat boots. I tugged at them angrily, the lacing sliding roughly against the fabric of my boots, and I could tell my anger towards Sam was worsening at the thought of having to listen to him spew bull shit everywhere. I inwardly groaned angrily, and stood up.

I walked out of my room, squaring my shoulders, ready to meet whatever blow Sam could deliver.

____

I was currently sitting in Sam's car, affectionately called Shelby, and was on my way to his house. Sam's house. I snarled inwardly at the thought and kept my eyes on the window.

I had know idea how he had managed to persuade my father of all people, to let me over to his house. It was ridiculous. I mean, honestly, the bias people had in regards to Sam Uley was incorrigible.

Big fucking deal. So what, Sam and the Council got along, word was they were preparing him for his future place, oh, and we all can't forget Saint Uley's protective position as a police officer. Gag. He made me sick.

Or I liked to think so. The fluttering of my heart and excitement that swam in my stomach sent a different message all together. I was disgusted, how could I be enjoying this? I shouldn't be enjoying this.

But my heart didn't care. It was calm now, no longer aching, no longer crying out for attention with its pitiful throbbing rhythm. I rolled my eyes, and sighed. This was ridiculous.

The tension in the air was nearly tangible, and I was just about ready to request that he just get it over with already. Why couldn't we have done this somewhere else, somewhere neutral, and somewhere that there was a possibility that I could run away.

Sam cleared his throat nervously, and I looked over and frowned in distaste, god he was even annoying subconsciously. I snarled and groaned angrily, inwardly of course, I really didn't want to do this.

This was not how I pictured my weekend. My ideal weekend would have been along the lines of me relaxing, chilling with Jake and avoiding any chance of seeing Sam. Sadly, fate was a vengeful bitch and decided that her plan was far better.

Yeah, right.

It didn't matter how I wanted my weekend to go, it was pointless. Wishing myself away from here was a moot point, and honestly wasn't going to get me anywhere but frustrated. However, it was nice to dream, anything to take my mind off the tension is this car.

It was painful, worse than the nights I spent with him on duty. I was a commanded audience then, and after a while it became more a appealing, but now, again as an involuntary party, I was past pretending like I wasn't ticked.

Sam cleared his throat, again, and ventured, "I don't know what happened—"

"Oh cut the shit," I interrupted, "Jake is next, we all know it. So you isolating me seems to be working, congratulations Sam, you must be so proud."

Sam clenched his jaw shut, looking the perfect picture of frustration and anger. I sat smugly in my seat, and watched as we approached a house that was set back in the woods.

The car made a slow approach, the tires audibly crunching over the dirt and twigs, but the sound affects only seemed to add to the rustic beauty of the house. It was made of wood, but it had been washed by the rain into a grayish, brownish color. It wasn't big, but it wasn't small either. It was beautiful, with its large open porch and simple qualities, and most of all, it suited Sam perfectly.

We stopped, and I looked to Sam who was already hopping out of his side, but before he could open my door for me I opened it myself. I stepped out just as he reached me, and we stood face to face. Or rather, me face to his chest.

Sam glared, and I did too, holding his gaze in my confident defiance. He seemed as though he wanted to say something, and I was tempted to goad him, and me being the indulging, selfish creature that I was, baited:

"You know if you just wanted to have a staring contest, we didn't have to come over here to do it."

Sam growled, scowling at me and my attitude that was spiteful and cruel. He straightened slightly, and said, "Let's go inside."

I nodded, dragging my feet the entire time, truly dreading being confined in a small, albeit cozy looking space with him. We climbed the steps, them creaking and groaning out the message that they were well used, often and regularly. I frowned at this observation, for all I knew Sam lived here alone.

As we entered the warmth enveloped me, as did the distinct smell of Sam. Instantly, and much to my disappointment, I felt safe here. I felt as though it wasn't at all abnormal for me to be in a place so personal to him. I felt like I belonged.

My back was to Sam as I observed his living quarters; the walls were a nice warm color, making you feel as though you were welcome. The décor was brief and very bachelor like. Paintings of our culture, and tribe were on some of the walls, simple yet completely well placed. The furnishings were just as simple, and I knew I was in the living room. I noted there was no television which I found odd for a guy of Sam's age. I chalked it up to Sam being Sam, and moved onto the next thing, which was Sam himself.

He was wearing a black t-shirt, one that clung to his frame nicely, but not in a way that it looked to be painted on. He had paired this with a pair of denim shorts that left his calves and his big feet exposed. The edges were frayed, which lead me to believe that they were used frequently.

I finished lastly with his eyes. Today they were not at all honey like. Instead they were a dark brown, almost black, with rage I presumed. I'm sure my moods were less than simple. Serves him right, neither were his.

We both remained in silence, not knowing what to do, what to say. With each passing minute and held glance my anger began to grow, ready to release itself on the nearest target.

"Listen," I snapped, "If you're not going to say anything, then take me home. I don't have time for you and your shit."

"Shut up," Sam growled and I took a step back. Never had I ever encountered a Sam that was rude or mean. Whenever he was with me he was nothing if not courteous, nice, and ultimately forgiving.

I guess I had pushed him too far, I thought wryly.

"Sit," He ordered gesturing to the couch that I was in front of me.

I sat, but I was on the edge of it, prepared to run away if needed. Inwardly I chuckled, but all mirth left me the moment Sam began what sounded like a practiced speech.

"I can't imagine what you are going through, I'm sorry that all of this has happened—"

"Sorry that this has happened? You're sorry?" I exploded. "How about that you stop bull shitting me and stop screwing me over!

"You cannot tell me that you're sorry and mean it after you have continuously taken all my friends after saying that you're sorry. If you were really sorry you wouldn't have done this to me Sam!"

Both Sam and I were standing by now, ready for the next argument. The next point to the debate.

"And do pray tell what have I done?" Sam drawled, snarling.

I cried out in anguish, it was as though he was trying to break me on purpose.

"What have you done to me? You've taken Jake! My only friend that I had left, it hasn't happened yet, but it will, based on what I have heard from him. Shit, you make me want shit that I shouldn't, you make my heart hurt! You…you…have completely isolated me, I have no one! I am all alone!"

By the end I was a sobbing, blubbering mess. Sam crossed the distance between us, folding me into his large arms. Instantly disgust washed through me, and I began to wriggle and squirm in his grasp. As much as I liked the feeling of his arms around me, I didn't want this. I didn't want it.

"Let me go!" I whimpered, still squirming. Even though I felt all too comfortable, it wasn't right, I wasn't supposed to want this, yet I did. This made me sob harder, the tears falling relentlessly. I slammed my fists repeatedly against his firm, toned chest, trying to send the message.

"Shh," He murmured into the top of my head, as he laid repeated kisses over it. I cried and fought even harder against him at the signs of affection that seemed so natural, necessary even.

"Don't fight it," He whispered, tightening his hold on me slightly. "Don't, Bella. Everything will be alright, I'm here, you've got me."

At this last sweet, loving assurance, I screeched, "Let me go, did you ever think that I don't give I rat's ass if I had you, I don't want you!"

Even though it was a lie, as untrue as one could be, I got what I wanted, and I stumbled out of his embrace. My words had wounded him in the worst way possible, and instantly I felt bad. But I was still crying, and my first concern was not with myself, but the look on his face.

It was broken; he looked wounded and hurt, as though I had delivered a physical blow. I cringed inwardly, but it was impossible to get away from one's self. I drew in a shuddering breath.

Sam, with a look of determination, stood tall and approached me again. He was so much bigger, and immediately I felt safe, protected. He gazed down at me, briefly brushing the back if his knuckles over my cheek bone.

He smirked when my eyes involuntarily closed, only in response to the power and pull he seemed to have over me.

I felt his warm hand cup the back of my neck, tilting it to the side, my hair falling away exposing even more of my neck due to the angle at which my head was positioned. My eyes were still closed, enjoying the sensations of what he was doing to me.

I felt his warm breath next to my cheek, but it soon passed and I felt it at my ear as he murmured huskily, "You don't want this?"

I moaned softly when I felt his heated lips descend upon the sensitive spot that was hidden behind my ear. It was the littlest of pressures, and my knees buckled just as he placed his large hand on the small of my back, steadying me and bringing me closer at the same time.

"Tell me you don't want it, this, and I'll stop." Sam said in his persuasive voice. We both knew it wasn't true, that he wouldn't stop, and I didn't want him to. It felt too right, the hum that passed between us was too real.

"Open your eyes." Sam commanded me, and I obeyed his orders, lifting my lids slightly. His face was so close, his lips more importantly, and my gaze flickered back and forth between the soft full lips, and the warm, heated eyes.

"See, you want this." Sam said in an even deeper voice, and it was then that the distance was closed.

His lips met mine in a heated kiss. One that was not gentle or sweet as our first was. He growled into my mouth, causing me to gasp at the vibrations. His tongue slithered into my now open mouth, languidly massaging my own tongue. I groaned, and shoved my hands into his sleek hair. We battled for dominance, and all too soon I found myself submitting into his skilled pleasures.

The heated passion lessened as oxygen became necessary, and we slowly pulled our lips apart, finishing with short kisses. We were both panting, forehead to forehead, and Sam said in a husky, yet awed voice, "See Bella, you can't not want me. It isn't how it is supposed to be."

I frowned and let my hands fall from his dark locks, so they rested at his neck. His heated skin burned against my flesh, and I found that I didn't mind the heat, in fact I welcomed it.

I was too tired to question his last mummers, so I let it slide, but made sure to memorize it, so that I could analyze it later. Instead I allowed myself to indulge, and just let myself feel for once.

Sam's hands were resting on my hips, softly gripping them, and this position just felt so natural, as if we had been doing this forever. I let the thought go, and as Sam pulled his forehead away from mine, I rested mine against his broad chest. He rained kissed down upon the crown of my head, and I smiled slightly, stroking the soft skin of his neck, briefly playing with the hair that lay at the nape of his neck.

We stayed there for I don't know how long, but eventually Sam pulled us out of our intimate embrace, and said, "We have to get you home. You're dad and mom must be worried."

I nodded my head, still reeling from what had taken place moments prior. I wasn't going to think of it now; I was just going to enjoy the high that I was on. I allowed him to open Shelby's door, and I hopped in.

__

The ride home went quicker than I would have liked, but it was nice. When we stopped in front of my home, I glanced at it and then at Sam. With my hand resting the door handle I paused and asked, "Sam?"

He looked at me with a contented smile and nodded for me to go head. With butterflies in my stomach I asked, "What are we?"

Sam didn't hesitate, "We're what ever you want us to be. I'll be what ever you want me to be."

I nodded at this, and said quietly, "Can't you just be mine?" I didn't know why but I needed to know that I was the only one he affected, the only one he kissed, the only one he did this to.

He smiled, and tucked a strand behind my ear, then gently cupping my cheek while leaning in and placing a chaste kiss on my lips, an as he pulled away he whispered, "I already am."

I smiled and said, "Bye, Sam."

I stepped out of the truck, and just as I was about to turn and wave, Sam surprised me and through the now open passenger side window, he said, "You will get your answers Bella, I promise."

I nodded in affirmation and walked up the pathway. I waved good bye when I got to my porch, and quickly slipped in.

It was there, leaning against my door, that I realized something: I may only have Sam, and was that truly so bad? No, not really, and as I pondered what had I happened I knew that I was going to be okay. I didn't know what was happening, or where it was going, but I was happy.

_For now, _I thought. I pushed it away, and kicked off my combat boots.

I trudged up my stairs after saying a quick good night to my parents—once again feigning illness.

Once in my room I flopped down onto my bed, and tried not to over think things. Instead, I enjoyed the feeling that is content, and decided I would deal with it tomorrow.

**A/N: A little too short for my liking, but I shoved a lot of action in there for you all. It was full of angst and Sam and Bella action so I think I did well. Better than last week. I was feeling generous, so I hope you liked it. Tis the season to be jolly, or that's what they say. Anyway I was feeling quite jolly and gave you all that little treat. **

**I hate to sound selfish but if I don't get some reviews I cam going to be concerned. By not reviewing you are sending me a message. So please, please, review! Click the button!**

**Anyway I hope you liked, and yeah, so please, review!**

**Play List:**

**Hey Ya! (Acoustic) –Obadiah Parker**

**I am trying to break your heart—Wilco **

**I will follow you into the darkness—Death Cab for Cutie**

**Way Out—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Moonlight Sonata—Ludwig Beethoven **

**Here it goes Again—Okay go**

**Possibility—Lykke Li**

**--Sorry for typos…I wrote this late at night.**

**Happy Holidays!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update! SO sorry! Really, so, so sorry. It's the holidays..**

**The response that received from the last chapter has thrown me and I cannot thank you all enough. I am extremely humbled by the attention you lavish upon my story, just thank you so much. I literally am quite honored by the compliments, questions, and comments. I appreciate it so much, and I love that I have such passionate readers. **

**Speaking of readers and reviewers I would like to thank you for adding me to your favorite author, author alert, or favorite story, or story alert. This also tells me that you like it enough to take to the time to pursue my story even further. **

**Thank you all so much who actually take the time to review. It truly is appreciated, and makes my day. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. All settings, characters, ideas etc. belong to S.M. No copyright infringement intended. **

**Boarders:**

**Chapter Thirteen: Honesty? Not always the best policy**

It was the first thing on my mind when I woke up. It was the thing I thought about as I burnt my tongue on my deliciously fresh Pop-Tart. It was the thing that pestered me when I went to the washroom. It was the thing that made me pull my hair out when my mother asked me what was bothering me. It was the thing that made me roughly tug my converse on. It was the thing that made me sprint from my home and too the beach.

It was what I thinking about right now, sitting on the beach with sand in my shoes. I kept thinking about last night. Pictures created by me flashed through my head a mile a minute, and I was having a hard time grasping what exactly had transpired between Sam and I only hours ago.

I truly didn't understand it. He seemed to be able to manipulate and bend me to his will with just a caress, or whispered promise. It killed me, and I felt a slave to myself. I wanted to stop so badly, but I was rendered incapable the moment Sam was around. I was tempted to try and stop, really stop this time, but part of me knew it would be useless. I had been determined last night and look at where that got me.

Part of me had resigned to the fact that yes Sam seemed to be able to convince me to do just about anything, and another part relished into his touch, his voice, his presence, whilst another part flew her freaky flag and stood defiantly.

Now, I was partial to all parties, but the first contender was whom I seemed to lean toward. I wasn't going to lie; did I like it when Sam kissed me? Hell yes. But what bothered me more was that I couldn't seem to make that decision on my own. I couldn't say that it was just the teenage hormones, because it wasn't. The problem was that it felt as though I was being forced into it. As though it was automatic that I would like such intimate acts, but the thing that really stuck out was that I didn't come up with this feelings organically.

Rather they were grown with pesticides and chemicals, and completely imposed on me. That's what seemed to irk me the most, it just felt so forced, but it wasn't painful, not in anyway.

It all came down to the one question: why, why was I feeling this way?

I didn't know why, but Sam did. At the mention of Sam my heart throbbed, and I rolled my eyed. It was stuck in that pathetic, aching rhythm that was quite similar, if not identical to last night's. It was absolutely ridiculous.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, sighing as I did so. As I rested my head on my bent knees I listened to the ocean, hoping to bring some peace to my scattered thoughts. Of course this didn't work, and it never would, but it had been worth a try.

I was past wishing for my old life, still though I longed for it simplicity, its lacking presence of Sam Uley. However, I couldn't deny it, part of me, if not the majority of me liked being around Sam. It was the same thought that it was all imposed on me, as though had there not been another reason I wouldn't be feeling this way.

That's what made me pause, get angry, it was that this wasn't natural. These feelings weren't truly mine, to some extent they were, but they had been inspired by some force that truly wasn't mine.

It was those god damned words that Sam had said last night that drove me to this state of mind, I knew I was on the breech of finding out exactly what was happening but still something was absent, and that one key thing was what I needed.

I groaned, far too frustrated.

_See Bella, you can't not want me. It isn't how it is supposed to be._

I heard the words as if Sam were sitting next to me, whispering them as he had last night. It was in that simple phrase that I instantly knew that whatever was happening to me was all imposed and all predetermined.

I knew I was angry for this very reason, but I tried not to be. I mean, if it I was going to get answers, as I had been promised, then what was the point of get all riled up about it.

Although, that logical approach didn't do anything to quell the restlessness I was currently feeling. I was still feeling as though enough was enough, I wanted my answers. I wanted them now. I had been patient for so long, okay maybe patient wasn't the best word, but I was fed up with being kept in the dark.

I snarled inwardly at my own ignorance, the one thing that I didn't want to be, and yet I was. I knew it too, which made it all the more worse. I huffed out a sigh and began to draw lazy circles in the sand.

It was an actual nice day here in La Push, one that made me pull out my old jean shorts that cut off at my knees, but hugged my thighs far too much—due to the fact that I got them far too long ago. Sadly my combat boots would suffocate me in this heat so I vouched for my converse. I was wearing a tank top and a light plaid shirt.

I knew it wasn't wise to be out on the beach on this warm day, but I really had nothing else to do, nowhere else to be. Instantly feelings of regret and guilt flooded through me, thinking of Jake. I knew that he must be completely thrown, but I was saving us time and one messy split. But was I really? I didn't know, and it didn't matter, because it was too late anyway to even attempt to fix it.

I knew I was right when I stood, stretching whilst kicking my legs wildly—hoping that the flailing of my feet would persuade the sand to leave my converse, of course it didn't work, instead getting worse as I turned to walk back to my house, thereby collecting more sand.

As I turned mid stretch I saw Jake, shoulders hunched, now broader frame walking alone—separate from his companions: Embry, Paul and Quil. It was even more apparent that the group was completed, even with me absent. Hurt swelled up inside, nearly choking me, but I pushed it down, and toed the sand beneath my feet.

I watched as they walked in the direction of Jake's home, and I instantly went into a nostalgic moment and began to recall a plethora of times that I was there too. I was also clambering up the steps, laughing and bumping shoulders like they were now. But it wasn't the past, it was now, and I was alone, watching form the beach like a stalker.

I chuckled dryly inwardly, albeit mirthlessly.

I ran a hand through my hair, sighing before turning back to the ocean. It sparkled in a new light with the sun's help. It seemed to shimmer, with each and every gentle lull of the waves, resembling something awe worthy. I frowned, when I heard the sound of foot steps on the beach.

I looked to my left and saw that it was a bunch of kids from Forks; I rolled my eyes, damn tourists. That was one of the more annoying things about bordering Forks—people who lived there thought they could just come over when the weather was nice. I rolled my eyes, snarling when I heard a girly shriek. I looked over to see what was happening and saw that it was some blonde haired kid tossing a petite brunette into the sparkling water. I snorted, typical.

But as typical as it was, it was _normal_. Something that I seemed to be lacking in considerable amounts. That small little, _typical_ action resembled the average teenager. As sad as it was I used to be like them, maybe not just like them, but I did identify with them. I knew that if my world hadn't been turned on its head by Sam, I may be as carefree as they were. I knew I certainly wouldn't be alone, on a beach watching other teenagers my age. I rolled my eyes, pulling my mournful gaze away from the scene.

Yet I wasn't. I was never going to be, I was never going to regain that normalcy, or that carefree attitude. I nearly choked on this trying to swallow it, but it was true.

Sighing, I rested my head on my knees that I had bent just moments earlier. I was still mulling over the tragic event of my life when I heard, "Watch out!"

I looked up, searching for the source of the warning, and why I was being warned. I found my reason as a football it me on the head, it bounced off easily, but my head didn't get away so simply. I groaned and rubbed where I had been hit, cursing the owners of said football.

I grabbed it and stood up, my anger powering me as I looked around wildly for the owners, I saw the two of them—one of them scratching the back of his neck, in nervousness I presume, and the other was smiling sheepishly.

I scowled, and marched over to them. I was so angry with this mundane action, maybe it was because I was already irritated because of all the shit that had gone down, or maybe it was because I needed to release some anger. Either way, by the time I approached them, I was ready to kill them.

I launched the foot ball at them, my aim mediocre but the force was impressive. I ended up hitting one on his pathetic, pale, and not toned chest. He rubbed it after the ball had bounced off, whilst yelping, "Hey!"

I rolled my eyes at him and simply warned, "If you can't throw it, then don't, for so help me God if I see you on this beach ever again I can and will hurt you."

One smirked, raising his eyebrows, or eyebrow I should say, and said, "Yeah, right. Anyway, don't make promises you can't keep."

I scowled and was ready to step forward and really show him until I felt a searing heat jut above my elbow, I instantly knew it was Sam, not having to look up.

"Who says she can't keep that promise?" I heard in that deep rumbling voice that made my palm sweat and my heart relax and flutter all at once. He sounded protective, and playful, knowing he was freaking the two scrawny kids out.

I finally looked to Sam, who was shirtless. That's right, shirtless, as in no shirt. I think my mouth watered. _Oh_ _my_, his chest was toned, and perfectly chiseled. The smooth planes of his chest looked to be soft, but strong, like velvet stretched taught over steel. His pectoral muscles looked perfect, as well as his abs; I hadn't counted yet, for I was too busy.

Sam again, now standing next to me reminded me just how much taller he was than me. My head reached just a couple inched higher than his pectoral muscles. Seriously, I looked like a dwarf next to him.

I stared at for him a moment longer but then looked away in shame when I caught his smirk, one that told me I hadn't mastered the art of subtly. My cheeks heated, displaying my shade in a brilliant pink, and I damned myself for being so obvious.

With my gaze away from the beautiful distraction I reminded myself that I was angry, slightly miffed. I mean, I wasn't completely inept I could handle myself…I could get answers from him if needed.

I rolled my eyes at my inner monologue, since when did I start giving myself pep-talks? _Since Sam Uley walked into your life and made you feel completely inferior_, my inner pessimist jabbed. I rolled my eyes, inwardly of course, and focused on what was happening currently.

I put space between Sam and I, taking a step to the right, and I didn't fail to see the confusion and hurt on his beautiful face. I smiled weakly, not wanting to let him see that yes, yes last night had been nothing short of remarkable, but I needed to think. To recover, to recuperate.

I scratched my other arm awkwardly, and then looked up at the two imposters. "Listen, don't go into football, because if we're being honest, you suck. Both of you. So with that, I leave you."

I know it was a cheap, and rather odd goodbye, and insult, but it was more so the fact that Sam was here now, virtually taking all energy out of me. I didn't know why, but I felt completely exhausted. I was so tired of being lost, of being ignorant. I just wanted gain some sense of normalcy, to get out of this state of limbo I seemed to be in.

I turned on my heel then, walking away, and heading for my house, knowing that I didn't feel like hanging out at the beach any longer. I knew Sam was following me, only having walked about ten feet. I whirled around, my accusing eyes landing on his hulking form easily.

"What do you want Sam?" I snapped, it was as though my fatigue, and all my confusion had mounted in this one moment and I just wanted him to tell me. I just wanted my answers.

Sam frowned and rather than answering my question, he asked, "What's wrong?" I rolled my eyes; this seemed to be all we did. Back and forth, back and forth, chasing what we couldn't obtain without the other.

"What's wrong?" I echoed, finding my anger easily. But despite the fact that I wanted to yell and scream, I said calmly, albeit coldly, "The thing that is _wrong _is that I know nothing Sam. Absolutely nothing and you make no move to enlighten me. Instead you demand my patience, demand that I be a good little girl and wait. Well I am so tired of waiting, I want to know. I want the answers that you dangle in front of me, Sam."

His form visibly sagged, and I watched, unmoving. He looked up, and saw that it was truly now or never. He sighed, and then appeased, "Fine. But we'll do this at my place."

I nodded, finding myself following him easily. My stomach fluttered in my trepidation and knew that no matter how nervous I was, it didn't matter, for I was getting my answers, and that was the only thing of significant importance currently.

____

Once again the excuse of having to work on my 'essay' was used, allowing me to go to Sam's house without so much as a raised eyebrow. I was mildly concerned about that, but it didn't trouble me, I was more troubled about Sam's nervous fidgeting and mannerisms.

I rolled my eyes, but then stopped. Here sitting in Shelby, yet again, I was hit with the unsettling thought that maybe what Sam had to share was so bad that he was acting so oddly. Was it that bad? Could it even be that bad?

I felt all blood leave my face immediately, seeming to settle in my stomach like a brick. What if it _was_bad? What if he was into child pornography? What if…what if Jake, Quil, Jarred, Embry and Paul were his victims? What if they suffered from Stockholm syndrome? I shook my head, and reminded myself that this had nothing to do with all the evidence I had observed.

I shook my head, _in through your nose, out through your mouth_; I repeated trying to calm myself. It didn't work, but I noted that we were pulling into the drive way of Sam's house, and I had never been so happy my life.

I hooped out of the cab of the truck the moment we came to a stop. My heart was beating rapidly, in a mix of excitement, anticipation but ultimately fear. I sucked in another huge breath and turned to see that Sam was already walking towards the house.

I frowned, noting this change in his normal behavior. Either he was very nervous, or decided antagonizing me was not as fun as it used to be. I vouched for the former and loped towards the house. I climbed the steps, trying to conceal my nervousness with an aloof exterior. I didn't know if it was working or not, all I knew and heard was the _whoosh-woosh-woosh_ of my heart.

Sam was holding the door open with a nervous and tentative smile, and I averted my gaze, quickly entering his home. I was once again swallowed up in the sense of rightness, not feeling out of place at all, rather recalling upon the feelings of 'belonging' just like last night.

I looked behind me to see Sam was watching me with a longing gaze, one that was full of hopes in dreams, but caught in the limiting present. I smiled slightly, try to encourage him. Sam sighed, running a hand through his thick inky locks.

Sam held my gaze walking over to me, pleading with his eyes yet again. I stood stiffly waiting for his next move, he took one of my hands in one of his, nearly swallowing it in the warmth and sheer size.

He stood tall, looking down as he said, "You must promise to try and hear me out, and not to tell anyone else what you have heard, no matter what. Promise me that, Bella."

I nodded, most of my attention focused on the warm tingly feeling that was encasing my entire arm. Then, much to my shock Sam leaned down capturing my lips with his own. They were hot and heated against mine, stealing my breath with the urgency and despair that they seemed to move with. There was an unspoken pain that Sam was trying to communicate, but I couldn't seem to translate it, so with my anger at the back of my mind I kissed him back, matching and raising his desperation.

The passion lessened, the despair lingered though, as we pulled apart, only rest upon each other. My hands, some where mid-make-out-session had moved into his hair. I let them slide down so that my fingers rested comfortably at the back of his neck as my thumb stroked the sides of his neck.

I looked into his eyes which were quite close, and I assured, "Sam, whatever it is, you can tell me. Please, Sam, please tell me. I _need_ to know."

He nodded and stepped away, motioning for me to sit, and I did, noting that he sat beside me interlacing our fingers together. I squeezed his hand, wanting him to start. I stared, waiting a patiently as possible, and when Sam took in a deep breath I mentally readied my self for the worst.

He looked into my eyes, holding my unwavering stare as he spoke, "You know the legends of our tribe?" He paused awaiting my response, or recognition. I did, I briefly remember the bon fires as a child, the legends carried by mouth, passed on to us, the next generation.

I hadn't heard them in so long, in fact I barely remembered much, just that it all seemed so magical when Billy told them to us, speaking of older times, foreign times.

I nodded and Sam proceeded with his explanation, "Well, you know how in our tribe we are believed to be descendants of wolves," I scrunched my face up at this, it was some of the weirdest shit, and I had never believed it, and am winced before barreling on. "Um, well it's true. It really is Bella, in modern terms, we, well I am a werewolf. A shape shifter if you want to call it that."

I stared at him blankly, and my haunches rose, I ripped my hand out of his and shouted, "Are you shitting me? Is this some kind of sick joke to you? I am not a toy to be played with Sam! Tell me the truth, god damn it!"

Sam clenched his jaw before rattling off in a heated voice, "It's true Bella! Whether you like it or not, it is! Jared, Embry, Paul, Quil and Jake, are all my pack members! There is a reason that all this has happened, I am the Alpha, I take in the new members, and it's my role. That's why you're alone; they are supposed to be with the pack. No one else."

I sat there, my mouth hanging open in shock at the crazy person in front of me. But some where in the deepest parts of my mind, I found this to be plausible. It made sense, the reason they all were together, why they were so big, the reason that they were each other's friends, Christ, they were each other's pack members. My more reasonable side jumped in, squashing my rant and reminding me that this was impossible, werewolves weren't real, and they were figments of people's imaginations. They were the predators in the movies; they were the gift of special effects.

I looked at Sam, clenching my jaw, nearly a mirror of him as I clenched my fist, "Do I look like an idiot, Sam? This shit isn't funny, stop it right now! Tell me the truth!"

Sam groaned angrily standing up quickly, beginning to pace back and forth; he stopped abruptly in front of my spot on the couch and demanded, "What will it take for me to make you see that I am not lying?"

I held his stare, and before I could stop myself the words slipped out, "Prove it." With those two words Sam stared at me before nodding, muttering something to himself. I just wanted to prove that I was right, and I thought that maybe if I challenged him he would back down and say, 'Just kidding!' I smirked at his silence, which slipped immediately when he agreed, "Okay."

I was about to scream at him some more, ready to scold him for his foolishness, but I just stood and said, "Okay then, lead the way."

Sam turned away, headed for the back door, and I followed scrutinizing his movements, to see if I detect any wolf-like behavior. I found none, again reminding myself of this stupid belief. _Great, I was stuck here, in the middle of the woods, at some crazy person's house, _I thought.

We had reached the back door, Sam grabbing a pair of shorts from the table that stood against the wall. He pulled open the door, allowing me to go first. I stepped out, noting the sun was shining brightly, adding to the beauty of the view. Sam's back yard was basically a foyer to a giant forest.

Sam walked past me, clambering down the back porch steps, and standing a good distance away. I watched, my eyes prepared for this supposed transformation. I scoffed, leaning against the wall of the house.

Sam frowned in concentration, seeming to ready himself for something. That's when I noticed it, Sam appeared to be shaking. It seemed like a building momentum, starting as a slow, nearly undetectable tremor, transferring into visible waver, and finally, it appeared obvious in shakes all over. Suddenly Sam gave a cry, bending over, forming an arc with his back. I watched, enthralled by the impressive theatrics, and with one greater painful groan, Sam exploded.

Shredded clothing fell like confetti at a celebration, but there was nothing to celebrate. Where Sam had stood, now was an entirely black wolf. Or bear. It was a wolf, but it was the size of a bear, if not bigger. My heart thudded, constricting in shock and fear. I was shaking, and I felt the parade of marching spiders, and I looked up from my shaking palms, half expecting to see Sam, but I was met with the same sight.

I looked at the wolf, noting its big brown eyes, and I instantly knew that it was true. Those were Sam's eyes, even though they were pained and pleading, they still resembled the coloring of syrup and honey. Sam wasn't a crazy person; rather, he was a werewolf.

I heaved a sob, and the wolf jilted forward, as if concerned, but it stopped itself. I shook my head, my eyes watery, and I noted that Sam, or erm, the wolf, whimpered softly. I stood, straight at the sound, and on shaky knees began to descend the stairs the porch.

The large beast stood still, watching me with calculative eyes, but I shrugged the unnerving stare off and continued my approach. I reached Sam, standing in front of him, shaking like a leaf. I looked into those orbs, and with my heart in my throat, I reached out, tentatively offering my hand to smell.

I could almost see Sam roll his eyes, but none the less he sniffed, his wet nose nuzzling my upturned palm softly, before a warm, wet tongue snaked out, swiping across my palm. I giggled softly, and the wolf raised its head, eyes still fearful, scared of my next move.

I reached out with my other hand and ran my hand through his soft, jet black fur. Sam leaned into my touch closing his eyes briefly when I scratched behind his ear. "This is real…holy shit." I whispered, rubbing the top of Sam's head softly. In response Sam nodded what appeared to be a heavy head. I was distracted, but as pulled out of my thoughts when I felt Sam lick the side of my face, "Ugh! Sam!"

Sam, nearly smiled, his eyes lighting up playfully as his tongue slithered out, lazily hanging out of the side of his mouth. I smirked, and stepped back, looking at him entirely. He was kind of beautiful, with his jet black fur, tall stature and what not.

I circled him, noting the wagging tail, and without a second thought, I grabbed it softly, before bringing it around to Sam's side, and shaking when I saw him watching me, "What's this? What's this?" I said, in that annoying voice that was reserved for dogs. I cackled loudly when he growled, and I let go.

I returned to Sam's front, and asked, "This is cool and all, but what does this have to do with me?"

Sam walked forward; nudging me back and I frowned, and then figured he was returning to human form. I walked back to the porch, waiting to see how he got back into human form. Sam visibly relaxed, and seemed to give a low, pained keen, and then within a blink of my eye Sam was human again, seeming to have a reversed system of phasing.

Sam yanked on the denim shorts that came to his knees before I could take inventory of anything. I looked away, somehow feeling humbled by what had taken place. I sat down on the porch steps and didn't make eye contact when I felt Sam sit next to me.

"Bella," Sam pleaded, "Look at me." I did, granting his request, and I drawled wryly, "Werewolf, huh?"

Sam chuckled, and nodded and gave a brief summary. "Yeah, Alpha too, I get to be the leader. But the rest of them are much like me, heated skin, big, but I am larger due to my status. Enhanced hearing, sight, smell, things like that."

I nodded, still taking it all in. It explained a lot, really pulling it full circle. I still was missing a few things, and I looked to him, echoing my earlier queries, "Cool, but what does it have to do with me?"

Sam laughed nervously, and continued, "Yeah, well, you're right, it doesn't end there. As a werewolf, we have this thing called imprinting. It's when our soul identifies with another, finding its mate. Basically, it's the way we find the person we're meant to be with, our one true mate, the one we're meant to be with for life."

Sam paused, looking me in the eye at this point, "When this happens, it's like your whole world shifts, and the imprint is basically your life. It's not only an emotional connection, its physical. There are physical symptoms, if you will, of an imprint. But no matter what happens, the basic duty of the wolf is to serve its imprint, whether it be as the role of a brother, a lover, a friend. However, in some instances it is difficult for a wolf to be just a friend, or brother, myself, for example, would have a hard time being just that. I am Alpha, and my instinct to mate is, well, rather overwhelming, so I would always need to be around my imprint."

Sam sighed, and I nodded, along, already knowing what he was saying, but still clung to the hope that I was wrong. "What are you trying to say, Sam?"

His shoulders slumped, and in a detached voice he said, looking at me, "What I am saying is that you are my imprint."

All oxygen left my lungs at once, my mouth falling open, gasping for air, trying to draw oxygen in. I sucked in a huge breath and before I let myself get too sucked into the chaos I asked in a small voice, "What does this mean for me?"

Sam winced and said, "Basically that you're my mate, and as Alpha I can't really fill the other roles, I am wired to be the other role, the one that demands you to be my mate in every sense of the word. It basically means that you're essentially destined to be with me, and you can't really be with someone else without physically being in pain. Look what happened yesterday, it would be like that, but far worse. You also won't really be able to be away from me for extended periods of time, for that too would harm both me and you. I'm sorry Bella, I know this isn't what you want but this is it. This is how it has to be, it's how it's meant to be."

I nodded, drowning out all the sounds around me. Anger flooded through me, violent and ready for destruction. I jumped up off the steps and shrieked, "Damn it! Sam, why? Why did it have to be you? I...I will never have a first date, I will never have any other relationship, I will never have a first boyfriend, I will never be able to have a normal life! But most of all, I will never be able to leave here! You'll be here, and I'll have to stay!"

I was sobbing at this point, angry tears pouring down my cheeks, the pain in my heart intensifying to point that left me gasping and breathless through my frantic rambles, "What about University?! I had a plan, Sam! A plan, to leave here, to get out! Instead I am going to be stuck here, with you of all people!"

"Oh wait though, I'll be here, as your mate, or whatever that entails, and I'm assuming that I'll have to have children at some point, you being Alpha and all, but they'll be puppies! Puppies, Sam! What am I going to do? I don't want this! Can't I just ignore it? Can't we jut ignore it?"

Sam was standing now too, and he looked at me with pity, and concern. I shook my head, wiping my tears off and taking in deep hiccupping breaths. "Bella, baby, I am so sorry. This is out of my control, it's not like I asked for this. I am so sorry, but you can't do that. We can't ignore this; I have been doing that for the past four years, Bella! I can't continue you on, it's getting worse, if I don't at least get you to accept this there will be severe consequences!"

"Wait, what? Four years?" I said in wonderment, it had been a couple of days and I was in hell, and he had been doing this for two years. Sam nodded and sighed.

"I first phased in grade eleven; I presume that you know of my fall from popularity. But you aren't exactly sociable after finding out that you're a werewolf, but you also are to stay here, forever, to protect your people. So I had to stop all outlets, sports, friends, everything, as ordered by the council, due to being the first of this generation, but also the fact that I was ill tempered, and had absolutely no control. But when I was a bit more tamed I was allowed back at school, and I remember it was the Spring, and you were in the parking lot, with all your friends, and I was walking by, having caught your eye, and that's when it happened. Bam, I had imprinted. I found out what it meant, but was advised to leave you alone, not to my approval, but it made sense. You are too young to handle it all, and I was just adjusting so I was in no position to do so either. So I left you alone, and then in grade twelve I was still alone, but I was ordered to stay that way. To leave you alone. It made sense, and finally after graduation I joined the police force, knowing I would be able to keep tabs on you. And well, basically after watching and waiting, I was given the go ahead this year, and I knew I was ready, but you weren't. I couldn't wait any longer. So, yeah, that's us, or me."

I nodded and blinked a couple of times and then in an awestruck voice I spoke, "Four years, it's been a couple of days and I sucked. I was such a bitch to you, how could you just keep on coming back?"

Sam laughed and gave some more answers, "That's the beauty of the imprint. Most of it is automatic; I have these natural instincts to keep you happy, even if it's at my expense. I will always be there, for you. No matter what."

I nodded and asked, "When did Jared join?" Sam frowned, but understood, I was all over the place.

"He joined during the summer of grade twelve, he had a scholarship and everything, he was all set to leave, to get out, much like you, and then once night it all changed. He managed, definitely struggling at first, but he's okay now."

I nodded again; frowning at all I had to take in. I ultimately was lost on how to handle what my mapped out future was; I didn't want to even contemplate it at the moment. I moved on to other things, and instantly felt guilty. I had been such a bitch to Sam, though I didn't know, but I still harbored the guilt.

"I'm so sorry." I muttered, and Sam wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into him, and plating a kiss on the top of my forehead. He brushed away some hair out of my eyes and said, "No worries. You didn't know, it's all in the past."

I nodded, and wrapped my arms around his waist, enjoying the feel of his skin. I rested my head on his chest, hearing the strong thump of a heart, one that beat for me. I smiled at the thought, and wondered how I was supposed to act.

I mean, I was his imprint, so was I obligated to act romantically inclined towards him? Or was I to go on in denial? Or act normal? Or ignore it? I huffed out a sigh and asked, "Is there anyone I can talk to about this? Is there another imprint?"

Sam shook his head; I knew this having felt the movement, "You're the first, but I suggest you talk with your mom, she should know. Your dad phased too, so, she'll know the answers you're looking for."

I nodded, and pulled away and requested, "Can you take me home? I have got some thinking to do."

Sam gazed upon me fearfully, and he said, "You can't shut me out Bella, please don't go home and devise a way to change your course, because it will only deter our situation. Please, Bella…"

"Shh," I said, laying a kiss over were his heart beat—which was thudding in his panic, "Sam, I can't very well shut you out anymore, not knowing that you need me as much as I need you. I am not going to do that, I am just going to think."

Sam nodded, and with that agreed to take me home. I marveled at how I had easily calmed him, and I smiled at that. The tables had turned.

___

I had gotten home and immediately found my mother. She only had to look at my face; the tear stained cheeks, the puffy, red eyes, and she immediately began to question me, comfort me.

So I told her everything, how I was confused, how I was mad at the fact that this was my life; that it was unfair that I was demanded to stay. I told her all about Sam and all the things that happened recently. She nodded, and soothed me, and discussed it all.

"But it isn't fair, mom! I don't want this! This is all forced; it's just going to make it worse!" I wailed, sounding utterly pathetic.

"Bella," My mom said softly, "Imprinting doesn't make think worse, rather, it fixes things. It brings two souls together, that will ultimately better each t other, and help each other. Don't you see? You are very privileged to be an imprint, you have found a constant. You have found the person you're meant to be with, who you can always count on. You are right, it does force certain things but all are good. An imprint forces you to see, to identify, but it is forcing you to identify the most pure, and sought after thing: love. Bella, dear, be open to this.

"I wasn't when I met your father, I was similar to you, wailing that it was a horrid thing, and to make matters worse, I was the imprint of a werewolf from another tribe. I was completely lost, and it wasn't until I had driven myself into a place where I was physically in pain that I realized that it was necessary. As unsettling as it was I accepted it, and allowed your father to be what he was meant to be.

"Bella I won't lie to you, it won't be easy, but it will be so worth it. So for Sam's sake, for your sake, think about what I have said and try."

I nodded, and tried to take in her words, but it didn't matter, for I knew that I was in for a long night. I knew that I was not going to be getting any sleep. Sighing, I hugged my mother, leaving her so I could go up to my room and reflect—which probably wasn't a safe thing to do. Oh well, I'll survive, won't I?

**A/N: So sorry for the slow update, I promise to be better! Pack's honor!**

**She knows! The wolf is out of the bag! Hah! I hoped you all enjoyed that, we're in for a bumpy ride, so get ready. But I will give you a little break and have some romance in the upcoming chapters. **

**I really hoped you liked it, and I hope I did it justice. I really will extremely concerned if I don't get some feed back, and I will be mildly discouraged. Oh, well. **

**Okay there is a long playlist…so here it is.**

**Playlist:**

**Done All Wrong—Black Rebel Motorcycle Club**

**Friends—Band of Skulls**

**Roslyn—Bon Iver & St. Vincent **

**Satellite Heart—Anya Marina **

**Shooting the Moon—OK Go**

**Slow life—Grizzly Bear **

**The Violet Hour—Sea Wolf**

**Cheated Hearts—Yeah Yeah Yeahs **

**Dudley—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Dull Life—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Faces—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Fancy—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Hysteric [acoustic] —Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Gold Lion—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Be Somebody—Kings of Leon**

**True Love Way—Kings Of Leon**

**On Call—Kings of Leon**

**Please review, I really hope you enjoyed, please inspire me and urge me to continue with a review! Show me some love!**

**Happy New Year! Hope 2010 is a good year for you all!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Okay the response from the last chapter was completely insane, I love it, and you guys are truly the best. I am not just saying that because you blew sunshine up my butt with all the compliments, I can actually say that I am truly humbled. The attention that you all give is amazing, and I often wonder how I began to be worthy of it all. **

**For those who reviewed, vented, PM-d me and just gave simple comments, thank you so much, it literally makes my day knowing I have succeeded in some way, shape or form. For those who added me to Favorite Author, or even Author Alert, I am so appreciative and thankful. **

**Most of you are begging me to scale back on the angst, but…well, I love angst. This chapter is going to have a rough edge, it is going to be painful, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel.**

**For those who were hoping for a butterflies and unicorn chapter, sit tight, your fluffy times will come. **

**Other than that I hope you enjoy the chapter, and please feel free to PM me with questions, concerns, and such. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. I own no characters, settings, ideas, etc.--No copyright infringement intended. **

**Boarders**

**Chapter Fourteen: Lock your self away and throw away the key**

I almost wished I was an ostrich. I wished I could simply bury my head in the sand, and quite honestly become invisible. It would make my life a hell of a lot easier. I wanted to just leave my life; I went from confusion to a world far worse than the one I had been complaining about for the past week. Now it was far worse for a plethora of reasons that had kept me up for the majority of the night.

I just didn't know how to handle it, it was absolutely dubious. I was floundering here, and I didn't have any help. Sure my mother's kind words of what she thought to be wisdom were used with the intent to help, but it made it much worse. She had single handedly made it a far more daunting situation.

I didn't know what was expected. I wasn't inclined at all romantically toward Sam, not anymore at least. Or, that's what I told myself. I liked to believe that all fluffy feelings were wiped away the moment I found out about my predetermined fate but I knew it wasn't true.

I was such a fucking liar too. I had promised Sam that I wouldn't shut him out, that I wouldn't go home and figure out a way to sever our joined fates. But I was, here on my porch looking at different angles, this way and that, seeing if any were plausible.

The majority of them weren't at all feasible, but most of them were along the same lines. They all shared the common fact that Sam and I weren't together, that in my crystal ball I was with someone by choice, and I was living my ideal life. Then reality reminded me of its annoying presence.

I just couldn't seem to face that my life was this fucked up. I was so alone. It didn't matter that my mother had the same experience. I didn't care, for it felt as though this was only happening to me. As if it were some freaky soap opera. I didn't want this.

I didn't want to live this life. I didn't want to end up with a werewolf. I didn't want to be an imprint. I didn't want to be looped into this crazy relationship, I didn't want it. Period. Maybe if I ignored it, it would go away.

My hopes were crushed when my phone buzzed, chirped, and showcased the name 'Sam' brightly. I sighed, staring at the phone. I gripped it tightly, and flipped open, pausing for a beat and then saying:

"Hey."

I knew it was Sam, obviously, and it never felt more awkward. I felt as if I was in someone else's skin, as though I wasn't myself, like I was wearing a costume. I shook my head, scratching my temple with one finger, and exhaling a puff of smoke.

"Hey," Sam replied, sounding defeated. I scoffed inwardly, what did he expect? Was he thinking I was going to dissolve into a puddle at his feet and gladly join him, as his breeder, as his mate? Pff, I think not.

"So I as thinking, if you know, wanted, maybe you would like to see the guys. I know that you miss them, and well, you're allowed to see them, since you're, um, you know, my imprint."

I cringed at the mention of the word imprint and tried not to scream for him to erase it from his vocabulary. I didn't want to be reminded of this fucked up situation. I just wanted to forget, even if it was for a moment or so. But I held my orders in and replied in a clipped tone.

"Sure, when?"

There was a lapse in our not-so-natural-conversation, but Sam quickly covered and revealed, "I was thinking today, around noon, but, uh, if that doesn't work we can do it sometime else."

I rolled my eyes and felt like snapping that I didn't have plans, I was grounded. Instead I simply replied, "Sure."

I glanced at my watch and noted it was eleven, I groaned inwardly and was ready to end this conversation with an awkward goodbye when Sam muddled it all together, making it more complicated.

"I know what you're doing, Isabella. I don't care for it."

I fumed, feeling my hackles rise, and I screeched, "_You_ don't care for it, Sam? _You_ don't, of all people? Did you ever think that maybe it doesn't matter if you care for it or not, for this is about me! _I _don't care for the fact that my entire future is mapped out, _I_ don't care for the fact that you expect me not to be affected, _and I _don't care for any of it. I realize you have waited four years, and may _I _remind you that you have had _four_ years to adjust to the idea that your entire future is set in stone, while I have only had a couple of hours! You've had more time than I have, and I appreciate you waiting ever so patiently, but I think you can wait a bit longer for me to come around to the idea that I will spending the rest of my life with a god damned werewolf!"

Silence greeted me, and I didn't have the patience to deal with it. I was angry, which I had every right to be. I quickly ended the phone call, like I had wanted to moments before, "See you at noon, and don't be late."

I snapped my phone shut then, holding it tightly before pressing my head down to meet my closed fist. I gave a pained groan, deciding that this was completely out of control. I had just apologized mere hours ago for being a blatant bitch toward him, and yet, I had slipped back into my behavior as if it were nothing other than natural. But this time I had been provoked, he was being mildly insensitive to my situation.

Yet I wasn't as sensitive to his either, Sam had waited for me for four years. It was quite the impressive feat. It didn't go unnoticed; to the contrary I was well aware of how hard it must have been. I didn't belittle it by saying that it was different, in fact I suspected that imprinting was a two way street, and I was nearly positive I had the nicer end of the stick, compared to Sam's end.

It was just so god damned confusing and I really just didn't know what to do. I thought back to my mother's words. When she told me about her and dad, I was utterly floored. Growing up she had always told me that it was all butterflies, love at first sight, and I realized that it was just that, rather, it was just one-sided. My father was the one to suffer the burden, and my mom resisted. Yet, he had to stick to it, because of the god damned imprint bond.

Although my mom said that it fixed things, that the imprint somehow was a great thing that I should be thankful for, however, I was by no mean gracious. I would mind if someday it was revoked and Sam was mistaken. My heart clenched at the thought, and I rolled my eyes. The thought, however misplaced in my heart, seemed to suit me well at the moment.

I leaned against the beam of the porch and took another drag on my cigarette and attempted to calm myself. I knew I was being unfair to Sam, but it was just such a cluster fuck of a situation that didn't really know what I was doing. I was just reacting and taking it all as it came in hopes of riding it out.

But I knew with all my heart that I couldn't ride this out. This was something very permanent, and I knew without a doubt that it had to be confronted, accepted and ultimately indentified. I needed so that I could go on as normally as possible, I needed to adapt, and I needed to make this my definition of 'normal'.

Instantly guilt swept through me in response to my cruel approach with Sam. I knew I should apologize, and I was planning on it. It was so difficult though, I knew I had to reign myself in. I know I had to stop looking at it as though I was alone, I had to start seeing it for what it was: a partnership.

Any decision I made, anything that I did, I had to have Sam in mind. I had to treat it as though Sam was a mere extension of me, I had to include him. I rolled my eyes at how true it was. It was absolutely astonishing, but completely true.

I sighed out a puff of smoke and mentally prepared an apology. Although I was feeling guilty about my attitude, I was also extremely excited to see the guys. Or at least Jake and Quil, I didn't really know where I stood with Paul and Embry.

I pushed away my concerns and tried to focus on one thing at a time. I put out my cigarette and flicked it far away, not wanting my mother to take notice. I took a deep breath and turned to go back into the house.

The porch creaked and groaned, more so when I reached the door. I pulled it open and could already see the look on my mother's face when I told her I was going to go see Sam and the guys. I took a deep breath and exhaled, noting that the scent of nicotine was weighing heavily on my breath. I shrugged it off and made the decision to tell her from a distance.

I entered the house and saw my mother coming down the stairs, basket of laundry poised on her hip. I smiled and requested, "Hey, do you mind of I go hang out with Sam and the guys?"

Her eyes lit up at the mention of Sam, it took all I had in me not to tell her that this wasn't me spending time with my imprint because I wanted to. I was doing this because I wanted to see the guys…or that's what I told myself.

She nodded, "When will you be back?" I rubbed my forehead, passing it off as an itch, when it reality I was doing that because I was tired of being asked questions.

I shrugged my shoulders, "Three maybe, four o'clock at the latest."

My mother nodded, and walked away, I took that as my permission to leave. I turned on my heel and walked back outside, just wanting to be alone. Once outside I sat on the little swing thing we had there, moving myself to a soothing rhythm that was subtle, but soothing none the less.

I sat there and just thought. Just looking at it from different angles, pushing and pulling my mind. I was having one of those moments where you just get lost in it all, just chasing and following your own thoughts. I sighed and then completely unbidden a thought pushed its way through, shocking the hell out of me.

_Bella Uley._

I gasped at the way it sounded, scoffing slightly at the same time. I tried not to think of it, but as I didn't the stronger the urge I had to investigate it. I imagined all sorts of things, me in a white dress, Sam in a tux. My visuals lead me across the world, from beaches to gardens. I rubbed my temples and demanded myself to stop.

I did it just in time for I heard foot steps coming up the path, I refused to look, already knowing very well who was here. I clenched my eyes shut, feeling my heart flutter, and released my breath in a very sad sigh.

I allowed my eyes to open, and I turned my eyes to see Sam. I smiled softly and patted the spot next to me. He looked tense and worried, and I felt guilty all over again for causing it.

He sat down, and it didn't escape my notice that from shoulder to foot that Sam was keeping contact with me in some way. I smirked, and laid my head on his shoulder, even though mot my head was resting on his bicep. I heard Sam breathe a sigh of what I assumed to be relief and I smiled sadly, now knowing just how badly I affected him.

"I'm really sorry." I said in a small, fearful voice, some how thinking he wouldn't forgive me. That was what it was like for me; everything was all or nothing with Sam, life or death.

He sighed and in his deep voice said, "It's alright, Bella. I'm sorry for being rather impatient, expecting so much from you so soon."

I shook my head, or well as I could manage in my position and insisted, "It's okay, I really will try though, you know, not to be such a bitch. I am trying here…it's just so difficult, I don't know what to do."

"Just do what feels natural, it's all in your head Bella, baby." He said, slipping his arm over my shoulders and pulling me tighter to him so that my head now rested over his pectoral muscle.

I smiled slightly and snuggled in a bit deeper, loving the feel of his skin and the warmth he had to offer. We sat contentedly for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company.

Then abruptly I asked, "Is it weird that I am nervous to see the guys again?" Sam chuckled and pressed a small kiss to the crown of my head. I frowned and pulled back, my scowl clearly stating that I wanted to know what was so funny.

He looked at me for a moment, giving time for my frown to deepen before saying, "Well there is really no need. It's understandable, though. I know Quil misses you, Jake misses you too but is really struggling with his situation right now, Embry is excited to see you again, Paul has the worst temper out of all of us so he is pretty angry at all of it, including everyone, and Jared is just excited to meet you."

I was nodding along, still feeling nervous but then a thought burst from my mouth without seemingly any permission, "How the hell do you know all of this? Do have sleepovers and bear your souls our something?"

He laughed and shook his head while saying, "No, not at all! As a pack, when we're all phased we can here each other's thoughts."

I nodded, not even wanting to contemplate what they may have seen of me in Sam's thoughts. I shuddered, and Sam tightened is grip on me before saying, "We should go. The guys are waiting."

I nodded feeling the ball of nerve in my stomach lurch forward, lodging itself in my throat. I followed behind Sam, my walkway to narrow for people to walk side by side comfortably.

As soon as we reached the car, Shelby, Sam opened the door for me and this time I didn't have some witty retort to tell him I was perfectly capable, I simply slid into the cab of the car. It could have been was I just so god damned nervous because I was seeing the guys again.

I didn't know why though, I mean with Jake I knew he would be upset, I had basically abandoned him because I was afraid. Quil I knew wasn't going to be that bad, but Paul and Embry were very much so in the unknown.

I shook my head and wondered when my life became so unbelievably complicated. Okay, I knew when it became complicated, in fact I could pin point the exact date, but that didn't take away the bitter taste it all left in my mouth.

I looked out the window, watching as the trees flew by, seeming to blur together into one mass of green. I snarled inwardly, hating it, feeling trapped, feeling surrounded. Then I thought to myself, _you'd better get used to it, you're going to be here. For life. _

I groaned inwardly, feeling my anger rise easily. I was stuck here for all of my life because of Sam. Just what I need, to be stuck in the place I hate most for the rest of my life.

I closed my eyes, and allowed my head to rest comfortably on the head rest behind me. I just cannot wrap my mind around it all. I was going to have to, for if I didn't I was going to be screwed. I could only live in denial for so long, but I needed to accept it, I needed to recognize it all as my reality.

I just didn't know how though. With every thought regarding my current situation anger and anxiety grew in my heart, taking over. How was I supposed to do this? I was at a loss. I shook my head, and took in a deep breath, scolding myself for trying figure this out in one go. It was too early for that, I just needed to do what Sam said, I needed to do what felt natural.

I heard the familiar crunch of gravel under Sam's tires, and my eyes flashed open, panic closing around my heart in a tight fist. We came to a slow stop and I sat in my seat frozen, unable to do anything. Even breathing seemed like a chore in my dominating panic.

I looked at Sam, noting that all color had drained from my face. He frowned and grabbed my hand, trying to comfort me, but I was still caught in the undertow of my panic, and despair. I looked back out the window and in the silence of the afternoon I could hear the world living, breathing, oh so easily, mocking me with its confidence.

I squeezed his hand, clenching my eyes shut. I was just about to ask him if we could go somewhere else, anywhere else when I felt him bring a finger under my chin, bringing me to face him.

He pressed his forehead to mine and softly, "Hey, you'll be fine." I nodded, but still disbelief clouded my mind. I knew I should trust hi words, hell he knew for sure; he shares a mind with them.

I pulled away from Sam then, but just as I was about to open my own door, Sam grabbed my wrist and said, "Believe it or not, I know when you're lying. I know you don't believe me. But, Bella, trust me, you'll be fine. Everything will be okay."

I envied him in that moment, wishing that I could be confident like he was. But I wasn't. I felt completely lost, almost like a child who didn't belong, as if I were about to hear something that wasn't for my ears.

I pulled away again, nodding this time, actually placing faith in what I thought to be empty words.

I slipped out of the truck and Sam did so as well, walking around to grab my hand, again. I tensed momentarily, not used to the open touches and constant contact. Sam pulled away immediately, looking scorned and shamed, and my heart lurched. Before I could stop myself I reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it to communicate that this was okay, that _I_ was okay.

Sam squeezed back and I didn't dare look at him, knowing I would be met with a shit eating grin of satisfaction. I smirked, and acknowledged inwardly that Sam may have natural urges to keep me happy, but I did as well. I found myself constantly wanting to make sure he was alright.

_Yeah imprint, _I thought sarcastically. We both climbed the steps in unison and we parted when we reached the door—Sam holding it open for me, and I stepping through.

I felt like I was entering an alternate world, something foreign, and I felt way too out of place for my liking. It was rather odd, and I felt uncomfortable immediately. Sam's house no longer brought the same comforting affect, rather it further reminded me of the fact that this was the place where they all were most of the time.

I mean, now that I think about it, they all probably chill here. Paul, Embry, Quil, Jake and Jared all probably come here for whatever reason, just to hang out, or to seek advice from their Alpha. I shuddered at the thought, and my once sanctuary now felt like a prison, but most of all the feeling of not belonging intensified to an extent that I was close to just feigning a fainting spell if it got me out of here.

I didn't have enough time to prepare lines, or ready myself to act for before I was ready Sam was ushering me further into the house, his wide palm resting naturally and comfortably on my lower back.

When we entered the 'living room' I was nearly choked by the awkward and tense air that filled the open area. I scowled ducking my head and feeling like I should say something. But I didn't, instead I lifted my head and observed.

Paul was the first I noticed, standing against the wall, looking more like he was forced to be here. He also appeared to be itching for a fight, his defensive stance was rather annoying but I made sure to move on before I commented.

I noted that Quil was sitting comfortably on the couch in a slouched position, looking care free, but more importantly as if this wasn't new, or mildly abnormal. He appeared to be completely at ease, as if he hadn't just become a werewolf mere days ago. However, that was Quil, and I felt a rush of happiness and pride that he hadn't changed.

Jake, my best friend of many years was looking less than comfortable. He sat at the opposite end of the couch that Quil was sitting on. He was sitting up straight, perfect posture and his arms were crossed over his broad and toned chest.

Embry resembled a neutral party, sitting in the arm chair that was across from the couch that Jake and Quil sat on. He was staring off into space, looking deep in thought.

My little inner inventory was interrupted by a cheery greeting, one that grated against my nerves, "You must be the notorious Isabella, and I'm Jared."

I stared at him for a moment and then snapped, "It's, _Bella_."

I heard a couple of chuckles, one coming from Sam, but Jake and Quil wore smirks, quite familiar with my attitude. I smirked back and for a moment the tension was lost, but it was a minor fumble as I suspected and it flooded back in on the next pregnant pause.

I stood there awkwardly there for a few moments before rolling my eyes and remarking dryly, "This isn't awkward at all."

Quil guffawed and stood, walking over to me and before I could stop him pulled me into a tight hug, one that was too tight, allowing me to feel the pressure on my ribcage. Quil put me down shortly after Sam put out a menacing growl, what that I presumed was his way of telling Quil: hands off.

I rolled my eyes, turning my neck to face him before ordering, "Calm the fuck down, it's Quil," That got a round of laughs and Sam growled again, not appreciating being humiliated in front of his pack.

"You're so tall, and, big!" I said, turning my gaze back to Quil, awe coloring my tone. He smirked and then said wryly, "That's what she said."

I laughed and nodded, knowing I should have anticipated it.

Embry came forward then and gave me a casual one armed hug and whispered, "I am glad you finally know, Sam has been so annoying—"

"I can attest to that too," Jared butted in. "Non stop for the past four years."

Guilt swept over me again when I thought of how long Sam had been waiting, and I looked back at him. He smiled, shaking his head at my guilt or at the comments, I didn't know.

I quickly looked around and saw that Paul was standing on the outskirts, silently laughing. I smirked at then sarcastically challenged, "What, no hello?"

He returned the smirk and walked over like the ret giving me a casual hug, but I ground my elbow into his ribs, and he winced looking confused, "That was for being such an asshole to me, Quil and Jake."

Paul laughed and stepped back, and I was just about to say something else when the classic slam of a door echoed through the house. I looked to the back door and immediately knew it had been Jake. My heart lurched, dreading the conversation that needed to take place.

Sam' form appeared in front of me, his back though; he was walking towards the back door. I assumed that he was going to go and talk with Jake, but I didn't want him fighting my battles.

My hand shot out grabbing his and before he could acknowledge me I was already in front of him, my other hand on his chest and I looked up at him and said, "No, it's all right, I've got this. It's me who he's upset with."

Sam frowned and seemed to be struggling, I didn't give him time though, it wasn't up for debate. I simply turned away and walked to the back door opening it up and stepping through.

The warm summer air surrounded me—we seemed to be having a dry spell in Forks, much to my pleasure—making the pressure of the tension more electric, doubly terrifying. I scowled and tried to keep myself from turning into a complete pussy.

What happened to that confident Bella? What happened to the girl who didn't take shit from anyone? What happened to the girl with a strong backbone?

I steeled myself, straightening my posture, trying to keep my pride in check long enough to grovel for forgiveness. Sighing I looked at Jake.

His back was to me, but his tall frame with his broadened shoulders stood tensely, alerting me just how displeased he was with my presence. I leaned against the wall of the house, fiddling with my hands for a bit before I said, "I'm sorry."

If it were even possible Jake tensed even more and I cringed, knowing that this was bad. Really, really, bad. I waited with baited breath and when he spoke his voice alone was frightening.

It was a tamed, controlled anger that seemed to be on the verge of an explosion.

"_You're_ sorry?! _You're_ sorry, Bella? What are you sorry for? Are you sorry for leaving me when you promised you wouldn't? Or are you sorry for causing me to phase? For making me do it prematurely, so much so that I ended up unable to get back into my human form until yesterday morning?!"

I flinched back, feeling his anger's intense ferocity easily. His words were like a whip, reaching out and lashing me, living a bitter sting. I winced, but it didn't stop me from yelling right back.

"I'm sorry, Jake! I am so, so sorry! I jut got so scared when you told me you were next! I just didn't want to keep going knowing that I was going to get hurt again! Call it self preservation, but it doesn't change that I am sorry! I feel like crap over it!"

He scoffed cruelly and I was about to reprimand him for demeaning my genuine sincerity when he commented sarcastically, "Yeah, I can see that you're real broken up about it. But lucky you, you have _Sam_ to wipe away your tears. Not that you have any."

I clenched my jaw and shouted, "Fuck you! You don't understand it! I have no control over it! I can't help what I feel Jake, I am his fucking imprint! Don't you dare insult me for this shit that I am stuck in! Don't you fucking dare!"

Jake snarled and attacked cruelly, "I'm not Sam though, am I? I don't have to forgive you! No matter how much you grovel it won't make a difference, I will still have the ability to tell you to fuck off. But Sam doesn't, the only reason he is the way he is, is because of the imprint! And how much you want to bet that when you leave him, like you did me, when you bitch him out, _he_ will have to take it, _he_ will have to take _you_ back!"

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" I screeched, his words cut me deeper than I thought possible, only fueling my insecurities about the imprint. I took a deep breath before screaming at him:

"You're such a dick! I came out here to fucking apologize to you! You could have told me to fuck off but you didn't! Instead you fucking tear into me! Christ Jake, if you don't want to accept my apology, tell me!

"You know you're right. It is the imprint that keeps Sam as he is, but it's not like I don't feel bad for it! You think I don't know that I run the risk of hurting him by just being me? Do you know how it feels to be so freaking scared of you're self that you want to change who you are? Don't think I don't know that Jake, because I do!

"But I know that with all my heart that I will try my best to stand by Sam just like I did you. I bailed your ass out too many times to count! I was the one who made sure that you made it home okay, spending the night in your room rather than a cell! I was the one who was holding you on the anniversary of your mother's death every fucking year! And you're telling me that just because one time I fucked in the worst way that you're going to throw all of that it my face?

"I'm human Jake, I make mistakes, god damn it! I took one selfish moment, and stopped and protected myself rather than protecting you for once! Can you blame me? I was trying to survive, and I knew I wouldn't if you rejected me too, so I did the one thing that was left, _I_ rejected _you_."

By the end of my screamed speech my throat was sore and I was tempted to just leave Jake out here to go get a glass of water. But I didn't instead I stood where I was facing Jake, my chest heaving, my hands shaking and my heart breaking.

Jake was still clenching his jaw but he still looked angry. He didn't say anything but I could tell he was dissecting everything I said in his mind, which didn't appear to be a good thing. He was beginning to shake violently and with my heart in my throat I screeched frantically, "Sam!"

Sam came out running so quickly that I suspected he had been waiting on the other side of the door. Sam saw the case of my alarm but it was too late Jake had exploded into a russet colored wolf and I slid down the wall of the house, completely silent but utterly panicked.

Sam was getting ready to phase and I could tell, he was ripping his shirt off but before he could begin what appeared to be a painful transformation Jared stopped him and said, "You need to stay here and help her figure her shit out, we'll take care of Jake."

Jake who I was watching with pained eyes was trotting away into the forest, leaving me just like I had him. I sobbed and Sam picked me up as if I didn't weigh a thing. I wrapped my legs around his waist and arms around his neck, burying my face in the crook of his neck, clinging to him like a child would a parent.

Sam nodded, and began rubbing my back soothingly; trying to calm the violent sobs that ripped through my body. Sam was walking back into the house, and just before the door closed—cutting off my sight, I saw all the boys explode into four magnificent wolves.

My tears were coming fast and freely, dripping from eyes and onto Sam's bronze chest. I felt him bending into a sitting position and I could only assume we had reached the living room. With my head still buried in his neck, Sam was still rubbing my back and peppering the crown of my head with little kisses.

I was beginning to calm ever so slowly, no doubt as a result of Sam's soothing touches. I pulled back slightly and brought my hand to his cheek, cupping it softly. Sam turned and placed a kiss on my palm, and I noted sadly, "You're too good for me. I don't deserve you."

Sam shook his head and said, "Nonsense, Baby."

I felt another sob crawling its way up my throat and I dropped my hand from his cheek before choking out through a gurgled mess, "How can you say that? I am so mean to you. I hurt you again and again and you always forgive me! Jake is right."

Sam cupped my cheeks then and ordered, "Hey! Don't do that! He is just being an ass right now. Bella, it is because of the imprint, but I am here, and always be because I want to be. No matter what happens, no matter how much you may hurt me, it would never be as bad as the pain of losing you!"

I sniffled and allowed him too pull me into a gentle kiss. His lips were soft and sweet against mine, wiping away all my insecurities. I moaned into his mouth when his tongue slithered out to brush tantalizingly slow against the seam of my lips. I opened my mouth in invitation and was not disappointed when Sam's skilled tongue began to explore my own mouth. He was leisurely playing with my own tongue, a well as massaging my hips, and I settled more comfortably into his lap, straddling him.

Sam groaned and pulled away gasping for breath just as I was, I giggled and kept my hands in place—weaved through his inky locks. After a few moments or so I said softly, "Hey, I meant it out there."

Sam looked confused and rubbed lazy circles where my protruding hip bones were. I shuddered at his electric touch, but then continued even quieter than before, "I meant it when I said that I would really try to stand by you. I mean really try. I can't promise that I won't be a bitch—"

I was cut off by Sam's lip on mine again, this time it was short and sweet and I nearly whimpered when he pulled away, saying in a deep husky voice, "I know Bella, I know."

And in that moment, cradled in Sam' arms Jake's comments couldn't touch me. For here, in Sam's delicious arms I was actually content. I was actually speaking the truth, and knew that I would try to be there for Sam, I would try to be the constant role he needed me to be. In this moment I was truly happy, for now at least.

**A/N: Wow. I am sorry for the slow update, but my computer got a virus and this seriously delayed everything and I am so, so sorry. **

**I know that was an angst filled chapter but you guys got your fluff moments of Bella and Sam being all imprint on us. I really hoped you liked that chapter, I am kind of proud of it, I thought it was pretty good. **

**Please, please, please review! I love reviews so very much that I just want to write the next chapter right away…**

**Oh! Speaking of future updates it is with a very upset face that I say this: exams are coming up, and studying will be monopolizing all my time. So I don't know when my next update will be, but I do know it won't be until February. **

**Maybe at the end of the first week, or so I hope. But if you really want me to update sooner review and I will try super hard to push a chapter out BEFORE February. **

**Well the play list for this is chapter is:**

**Hysteric (Acoustic)—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Skeletons (Acoustic)—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Soft Shock (Acoustic)—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Little Shadow (Acoustic)—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Enjoy the Silence—Anberlin **

**All I believe In—The Magic Numbers & Amadou & Mariam **

**With that I leave you to (hopefully) review! Please review! I really love and appreciate them!**

**Later! **


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Exams are over, which means more regular updates. Speaking of updates…thank you guys so much for all the reviews and such, I really am sorry for not replying to each and every one of them, but you must know that I do read them. They bring a smile to my face and truly make my day. **

**So this is a nice chapter. Not too much angst, more fluff and some Bella and Sam quality time. Hopefully this much needed down-time will bring a smile to all your faces and make you squeal before saying, 'Awe!'**

**With that, ladies and gentlemen I leave you to read. Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything. All of it belongs to S.M. including all characters, settings, places, etc.—no copyright infringement intended.**

**Boarders**

**Chapter Fifteen: I don't speak the language that is Sam Uley**

You know what I love doing? Sleeping, sweet, sweet slumber. I know it sounds odd; I am unconscious for the majority of the time. However, that was the beauty of it. I was blissfully unaware, where the nuances of my reality couldn't touch me. I was safe here, in the thick abyss of darkness. I could lounge comfortably in a world of my own making, wrap myself with reassurances that felt real, trust worthy, plausible.

However, reality—the ultimate bitch, next to fate of course—was all too quick to remind me of its presence. I could feel it, as I was coming into awareness. I felt myself being slowly brought to the surface of the ocean that was being awake, I resisted, willing myself to relax, to sink back down to the floor of the ocean. But I was too slow, clinging and tugging weakly, and with a sharp yank my eyes flashed open.

I shut them tightly again, clenching my lids shut. It was futile, warm shades of orange and pick swirled and melted together bind them. I groaned curling onto my side, hugging my pillow fiercely.

I didn't want to face this day. It was like taking the walk of shame, and boy did I feel the shame. I was so pissed off with myself that I had let Sam see me like that, sobbing and sniveling. It was ridiculous; I was my own person, why did I rely on him like that last night?

I knew the answer to my own question. I knew it was because of the imprint. I knew it was something that was designed around co-dependence; I knew it was only natural for Sam to comfort me, and for me to want that comfort. But that didn't change how ashamed I felt.

I was rather upset that I had let myself be so vulnerable around him, around the guys. I was even more pissed that Jake had gotten to me, and I had let him see it. Now he knew he held the power. Now he knew what made me tick, what irked me, my Achilles heel.

I left that thought there, not really wanting to delve into what took place yesterday. That included both Sam and Jake. The only thing I knew for sure was that Jake was an asshole, a justified asshole, granted, but an absolute douche none the less. Sam, was well, Sam and everything I needed him to be. My only hope was that he wouldn't treat me differently from what he saw last night. The last thing I needed was to be coddled and babied.

I shook my head, hoping and praying that that wouldn't be the case. Inwardly I was being scolded, telling myself to have a little faith in Sam. I frowned at the concept; it was easier said than done.

I envied people who faithfully wore a blindfold, and committed themselves to the seemingly small act of truly being faithful. I don't mean not cheating someone, or keeping one's word, I mean that admirable ability of being faithful. To be able to be so confident and comfortable enough to believe someone or something with all your heart, to an extent where no questions, no doubts could rattle or jostle your beliefs.

Sadly I had never been that person. I often found myself questioning everything and anything, far too cynical and realistic for my own liking. I often spoiled things not only for myself, but at times for others around me.

I felt disappointment weigh heavily in my heart and I found myself asking punishing questions. I wondered if I would ever be able to accept Sam for who he was, and what he offered. I wondered if I was ever going to be able actually enjoy and embrace the relationship we seemed to be joined in.

I was so scared that I was going to mess it all up, that I was going to wreck it all. I knew that it would eventually repair itself if something bad did happen, but somehow that thought was enough to bring a sting to my tear ducts.

I frowned, and felt anxiety wrap a noose around my heart, tightening with each dreadful thump. I was so fearful that I would somehow ruin this, that I would hurt him, that I would break him, that I would _destroy_ him.

Sam deserved someone better, someone that was going to be able to jump blindly and faithfully into the abyss. He deserved someone who would treat him like the amazing man that he was. He deserved a warm heart that would match his own, and with that heart breaking realization I recognized firmly: I didn't deserve him, and he didn't deserve me. I was less than what was needed, and the thought that Sam was tied to me no matter what had water welling in my eyes.

I wasn't crying for myself, but for Sam. I knew that with out a doubt that Sam would forgive me, regardless of my actions of what I do, and that made me feel cheap. It was o unfair to him, to have me as an imprint. I didn't want this future for him, it wasn't about me anymore, it was Sam. Sam deserved a nice girl that would have no problem settling down in Forks with a white picket fence and how ever many puppies Sam desired.

I wasn't that girl.

Tears leaked from my eyes as I let this heavy epiphany settle into my heart, the tears hot and quick slid down my temples. I gave a pathetic whimper and felt my heart clench painfully. I wiped my eyes and attempted to calm myself down, knowing—based on history—that Sam was able to sense my emotional state through the imprint bond. I didn't want to further instill my role as a burden, so I took deep soothing breaths, attempting to lull the sting of tears behind my eyes and the lump at the back of my throat.

I knew it was too late the moment I heard my phone's tell-tale ringer, and I groaned, wiping away the tears that had escaped despite my best efforts. I grabbed my phone and flipped it open, already knowing who it was as I brought it to my ear.

Before I could even excuse anything Sam's panicked voice entered my ears, "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

I sniffled and in a pathetically sad voice I replied, "Just a little self reevaluation." I left it there not wanting to bring up all my insecurities regarding Sam, but more importantly myself.

"Stop it, babe. You know I like you just the way you are. Don't ever change." Sam reprimanded. I snorted at his corny finish, and chuckled, nodding, "I wonder why you do though, you know, like me the way I am."

Sam sighed, "Bella I like you the way you are because of the fact that you have a big heart—bigger than you'd like to admit, I like that you are strong, intelligent, independent, but most of all I like that you're opinionated and have no problem sharing them. I like that you're confident, and I absolutely adore that you don't wear you're heart on your sleeve—except with me of course."

I felt my heart swell and thud gleefully with his words, and for a moment I allowed myself to believe him. Sighing, I pondered what the events of my day would be. My parents' anniversary was today, and they were going out, thankfully it was Monday and I had my shift with Sam tonight. I needed to go to the grocery store, since my mother failed to do so yet again, and get myself some frozen dinner for tonight.

"So, what are you doing today?" I asked, hoping it was nothing, hoping we could do something, though I highly doubted that Sam would want to come grocery shopping.

"Not much, in fact nothing at all." Sam said smugly, and I instantly knew he had caught on. He was going to make me ask him out; I smirked and asked, "Would you like to hang out today?"

"Is _the_ Bella Swan asking me out? The one who wouldn't even let me open a water bottle for her? Hmm…I don't know. What would we be doing?" Sam teased.

I felt my cheeks heat as I thought of that day in the kitchen, it felt like centuries ago. With my blush still pooling my cheeks I asked, "I was thinking, I mean, I know it sounds lame, but could you be persuaded to go grocery shopping with me?"

Sam chuckled, and I think he deliberately waited a beat or two just to create a nervous lapse in our conversation. I actually felt anxiety bloom in my heart, and thought, what if he didn't want to? What if would rather hang out with his pack? My heart sunk and I laughed nervously before saying, "It's okay if you don't want to Sam, you can do something else. I don't want you to do it because you feel like you have to. That's the last thing I want for you—"

"You're really cute when you're nervous, you know that?" Sam interrupted with a chuckle. I scowled, and made a sound of annoyance. Sam laughed again and then continued, "Don't be that way. Of course I would like to hang out with you, but would it be alright if we go to the diner first? I haven't eaten all morning and that's saying something, for me especially."

I frowned, mulling over his words before quickly blurting out, "Is that why you eat so much? Because you're a werewolf?"

Sam chuckled yet again, "Yeah. So the diner and then the grocery store?" I nodded but then quickly said, "Yup. When can you pick me up?"

"How soon can you be ready?" Sam countered and I smirked, he was eager to see me just as I was to see him. I looked at my clock, knowing I didn't need to have a shower today, before responding, "Fifteen minutes."

We hung up shortly after that and I quickly sprang into action. I gathered my clothes, pulling out some shorts, and a simple black tank. La Push is still suffering from the heat wave, and in this weather it actually is nice, tolerable even. Still too much green though, always too much green.

I stripped out of my pajama's, tossing them in the general direction of the hamper, swearing to myself I would pick them up later and put them in, knowing that I never did. Pulling on my tank, after putting on my bra first, and repeating said action while pulling on my underwear and shorter than necessary shorts. Having dubbed myself nearly ready, I quickly made my way for the bathroom.

I walked in the bathroom and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror that was located just above the sink. I didn't know what made me do it, but I paused, and stared. I knew it was stupid but for some inane reason I almost thought I would look different. I somehow thought that the past events could have altered what I looked like; they certainly affected what I looked like on the inside. I had been so dramatically altered that I found myself scrambling to get a grasp on exactly who I was. That thought alone was enough to make me shudder, and I knew that it was just the seduction of my insecurities, but it didn't help much. I mean, I knew who I was, but I just felt so different. Everything felt different; my view on things had changed, my situation had changed, my very life had changed. So, what does it mean to say that maybe I haven't changed?

I scowled at myself and quickly dropped my gaze not wanting to pursue this train of thought an further, for if I did I knew I would be in front of this mirror for the entire day, a day I would much rather spend with Sam.

But as I roughly brushed my teeth, the haunting thoughts pestered me. I pushed them away and just told myself to focus on the here and now, one thing at a time. I knew that that was the most logical approach to this but I was still struggling with all the baggage.

Although I knew certain things for sure, I knew that I could honestly say that I liked Sam. I could see myself with him, even though we were a far cry from that. I knew that I could trust him; I knew that I could be around him for however long. I knew that Sam made my heart thud, and my cheeks hurt because of smiling too much. I know he made my lips tingle when he kissed me, I knew my hands shook when she touched me. But I knew that it was all in response to the imprint, and somehow I was able to accept that.

I may not be happy about it, but could I honestly shove away something that so many others were searching for? Could I turn Sam away, demand that he be something other than who he was? I wouldn't, and would never, knowing he would demand that of me. But most of all Sam made me happy; he had proved this time and time again. Albeit that I was angry when he lifted my spirits but none the less he took care of me.

I spat out my now frothy tooth past and rinsed before finishing up. I washed my face after, feeling the chilling water cool me, and hopefully my thoughts. I looked up in the mirror again but this time I didn't let my thoughts run away, instead I focused on the task at hand—pulling my hair up roughly into a not so neat, but high pony tail.

I walked out of my room then, hopping and pulling my converse on in one impressive jig. After my carefully performed dance I descended the stairs, nearly taking them two at a time but I resist and do it properly.

Despite my efforts I find myself pulling my front door open, just to see if Sam is there. My eyes flash quickly and I see nothing, but then I hear the tell tale sound of a car, or rather truck and my heart thumps erratically, just at the mere thought of seeing him.

Without closing the door I jog into the kitchen, some how feeling a certain rush and urgency to see Sam, knowing that its all excitement, but still I pop my head in and see my mother there reading the paper, "Going out with Sam for the day! Happy anniversary! Be back in time to see you and Dad off for the night! Love you, bye!"

I don't even wait for her to reply, for I am already jogging back to the front door. By the time I burst through the screen door, not caring about the annoying slam as it closes behind me; Sam is just stepping out of his truck.

Everything seems to freeze in that moment—Sam is there with a smirk, and I feel my cheeks begin to ache, but for the life of me can't seem to be bothered, and I just stand there, on my porch, pausing there for some reason. Suddenly I realize that I don't know what to do, how to greet him, what to say.

So, like the fumbling fool that I was, I stood there, watching him. I didn't even move, my feet now seemed to be nailed to the old creaky boards, but Sam keeps moving as if he doesn't see me standing there like a window licker on the short bus.

Sam smirks and holds my stare, as if he knows what is happening as if he can read my mind. He walks up the path way, but then, with purposeful intent pauses halfway. I know what he is doing, forcing me to meet him half way. I smirked back and stepped down the steps with a confidence I certainly didn't feel.

I walk towards him, and stop just a foot away, the mere twelve inches feeling like a large gap. He smiles down at me, and I find myself craning my neck, once again reminded of our odd pairing of statures.

Before I realize it, Sam has reached around and tugged my hair out of its ponytail. I frown in confusion as I feel the waves of my hair falling, tumbling around me. Sam takes a deep breath before leaning in, pausing at my ear to say in a deep voice, "I like your hair better when it's down."

My breath got caught in my throat due to his proximity, but then stuttered when he placed a chaste, but wet kiss on that little, but highly sensitive spot behind my ear. I felt Sam smirk a he pulled away, but stopping again, taking advantage of my subdued state.

He cupped my cheeks in both hands and leaned in, joining our lips in a heated embrace. I was quick to wrap my hands around his slender hips, pulling him closer as I kissed him back. The kiss was sweet, tender even, with its little pressures, and chaste kisses that seemed to build its entirety. I smiled against his lips, and whispered, "Hi."

He smiled back, to the best of his ability, and whispered back, "Hey."

We pulled away then, just our lips and I gazed up at him again and sighed, "We should get going, my mother is probably at the front window, with her video camera, documenting every moment of this."

He chuckled and pulled away, twining our fingers together as we walked the rest of the pathway together. Once we reached Shelby he opened my door for me, and placed a light kiss on the crown of my head as I stepped up and into the truck. He closed the door and then jogged over to his side, hoping in, and in one smooth movement starting the car as he did so.

The truck rumbled, humming into life, as Sam slowly steered us out and onto the road. I rolled down the window, and let my arm rest comfortably on the edge, my fingers flirting with the wind as Sam picked up speed.

"So, do you mind if I as for some furry facts?" I asked, smirking at my little jibe. Sam, on the other hand rolled his eyes, flicking them over to me, "I am never going to hear the end of the werewolf jokes, am I?"

I shook my head and plowed on, "So, when you say super hearing what does that exactly entail, is it, like, limitless, or do you have a one mile radius type thing?"

Sam shook his head, at my phrasing I am assuming, and said, "Let's just say that I can hear your heart beat."

My jaw fell open, and I briefly thought of my erratic heart in all its glory. I clamped my mouth shut and tried to keep the overwhelming shame and embarrassment at bay. "Are you for cereal?"

"Am I for cereal?" Sam chuckled, "Yes, I am serious, actually. Bella, I can hear your heart beat quite clearly. I know that when I get close to you it starts beating faster, and it does this weird thing when I kiss you, but by far my favorite heart beat pattern is when I hold you. It gets all relaxed, but somehow, its beats a bit faster, but not as fast as when I kiss you…is it weird that I know all the patterns to your heart?"

I looked at him, my jaw hanging open before I laughed and moved on to my next question, "Why do you live on your own?"

Sam stiffened at my question and sighed before explaining, "My parents live on another reservation, but it's quite a ways away, far, far away from me," He looked at me again at this point before continuing, "It's like that because, you see, when I lived with my parents, my Dad was Alpha of the house so to speak, and when I phased, I had been established as the Alpha of La Push, but also I felt the urge to attain that role in my own household. As I continued to stay with my parents the stronger my urge got, and the stronger my father's urge to maintain his status got. The only way either of us would get what we wanted was for us to fight for that position, and I don't mean that after the fight whoever lost would walk away as the loser, they wouldn't be walking away period. It was then that my mother urged me to move out, not wanting to loose either a husband or a son. So, I moved out."

I frowned, and my heart lurched, going out for him. "I'm so sorry Sam. I never thought that that's why you were on your own, I was just curious, forgive me."

Sam looked at me cross eyed for a moment before explaining, "Bella, you don't have anything to be sorry for, it is just another perk that comes with being a werewolf." He finished with a tight lipped smile, and I reached over and rubbed his forearm soothingly, "I am sorry, sorry you had to go through all that alone."

Sam relaxed slightly, and somehow, the air seemed to loose it easy playful atmosphere, somehow my question had dampened and ripped down our moods. I let my hand fall back into my lap, and I looked out my window, cursing myself for being so curious.

I kept my gaze on the flashing greenery and attempted not to gag. Dressed in the sunlight the trees weren't so bad, I mean, they were at least tolerable, but there were just so many of them. An army of gross green beasts, surrounding everything. I inwardly shuddered, and was relieved when I saw the diner up ahead.

I watched as the diner grew, and soon we were parked in front of it, my hand already pushing on the little button that would unlock my seatbelt and allow me to make a quick exit from this depressing car. My hand was on the door handle the moment the seatbelt slithered back into its resting place, and I was just about to get out when Sam grabbed my unoccupied hand.

I looked at him, and I saw an apology written all over his face. I frowned, not wanting an apology, just wanting to gain that easy balance we had working moments before. I squeezed his hand and ordered, "Don't do it, Sam. Don't apologize for nothing. Everything is okay, I am just…hungry?"

Sam raised his eyebrows at my attempt to explain that he didn't need to apologize, nothing went wrong, it was just us learning about each other, and so what if it took a couple of 'insert foot in mouth' type of questions?

I fixed him with a pointed look, and sighing he nodded, knowing his apology wouldn't land him anywhere. We both exited the car then, and on the other side I expected him to grab my hand like he always did, but this time he surprised me, wrapping one of his toned arms around my waist.

Closely tucked into his side, I felt at home. It felt nice, natural even. I felt a feeling of content bloom in my heart and spread outward, warming me entirely…or it could be the fact that the sun was high in the sky, and my own personal space heater was surrounding an entire side of my torso.

None the less I had a small smile gracing my lips as we entered the diner. The loud bell clanged over head, alerting our arrival. Sam and I walked over to the same booth that we ate at the morning after my first shift.

Even though that was just about a week ago, so much had changed, and it was hard to believe that it all had happened in such a small time frame. Regardless of the quick time line I slid into the booth, leaving Sam to slide into the other side opposite me.

I entwined my fingers together, and nearly jumped when I felt Sam hook his bare ankle around my own. It was like we were holding feet, kind of like holding hands I guess. They were crossed, and my ankle rested comfortably against his.

It was then that I raised my gaze to meet his warm eyes. He was smirking, and I smiled back, which quickly fell the moment I heard the bell clang coupled with Leah's annoying voice. Sam noted this with raised eyebrows, and rather than supplying the answer he wanted I just slumped back in my seat.

Sam rubbed his ankle against mine soothingly, and then said, "Don't let her get to you." I scowled ad grumbled, "Easier said than done."

He chuckled, and then grabbed one of my hands before playing with the fingers, making me smile yet again for the millionth time that day. My anger that always was present when Leah was around seemed to calm slightly, and dull even more when Sam began rubbing, and drawing little designs onto my skin.

Each swipe of his fingers left a fiery, tantalizing trail, and my lips parted, imagining what his hands would feel like on other parts of my body. And as if he knew this, Sam tugged me forward so that more of my skin was available for him to reign over.

With my hand as conquered territory, Sam proceeded to trace the veins the lied closely underneath my skin. My tongue slithered out and swiped along my lower lip, as he leisurely continued his pursuit. My breath hitched when he reached the sensitive joint of my elbow, teasing the flesh as well as awakening my desires.

I was just about ready to suck his face off, but unfortunately I heard a tentative clearing of a person's throat, and Sam at back smugly, and I sheepishly as our waitress set the menus down in front of us.

I browsed through the menu, not knowing what I wanted. It was twelve, and I didn't know if I wanted an actual lunch type meal, or breakfast. I frowned and then listened to my stomach. I decided on lunch, and knew instantly I would be having a burger.

I got the feeling we were being watched, and I gazed up from my menu, trying to look naturally normal, and instantly my eyes zeroed in on the culprit—Leah. I scowled at her, but she didn't seem to notice, she was staring at Sam. Ogling him as if he was hers to ogle.

_Mine. _I inwardly shouted. Leah wasn't doing this; no she wasn't, unless she wanted another black eye to match the healing one that I had administered earlier last week. But still I felt threatened, and an overwhelming wave of jealousy swept through me, stirring up all sorts of trouble.

If looks could kill, Leah would be a pile of ashes in her seat. She wouldn't be eye-fucking my man—who was obliviously hunting down his next meal, eyes plainly focused on the menu—she certainly wouldn't be giggling with her friends, obviously twittering about some dubious plan to gain Sam's attention—who was my man, did I mention that?

I huffed angrily and Sam, without pulling his eyes away from his menu asked, "Little tense over there, babe, what's up?"

I relaxed mildly, and when I heard 'babe' I was reminded that Sam was _mine_. He was my imprint, which meant that he was going to be with me and not Leah, in fact he would never even consider Leah, and in that moment I actually appreciated the imprint bond.

Momentarily soothed, I smiled smugly, and chanced another glance at Leah, who saw me, and I sarcastically waved, wiggling my fingers overzealously and mouthing the word, "_Mine._"

She stiffened, and a snarl married her already ugly face—okay, she wasn't ugly, but for all purposes in my books, she was ugly as they could come. She fixed me with narrowed eyes, but I held my smug smirk.

Sam looked up then, and I smiled a genuinely happy smile, and he frowned, "What's got you so happy?"

I shrugged my shoulders, and thanked the Lord for small favors when our waitress came over, and said, "Could I get you something, or do you need more time?"

She wasn't much older than me, and I assumed she was saving up for College, or something or other. I looked to Sam who was nodded at me to go first, "I'll have a Coca-Cola and the burger, no pickles please."

Sam frowned and then finally settled on what he wanted, "I will have the breakfast, but could I get an extra side order of toast and bacon, please? Drink wise, I would like a coffee."

Our waitress nodding, taking our folded menus and tucking them under her arm as she walked towards the kitchen, shouting out our order as she entered through the swinging kitchen door.

I flicked my eyes back to Sam and he was still gazing at me expectantly, but I just looked out the window, twiddling my thumbs so to speak. I felt the parade of spiders that Sam sent marching all over my skin with his stare, and I shuddered when he grabbed my hand and rumbled, "Don't make me _tease_ it out of you."

I kept my gaze locked on the window when I felt him tugging on both my hands forcing me to look at him. My eyes met his, which were filled with mischievous intent. "You look rather lonely over there, Bella," Sam drawled, "I think you could use some company."

Before I could protest, and squash his audacity, Sam, huge, hulking Sam, had left his side of the booth—and my ankle felt unreasonably cold—and slid into mine. I shifted, nearly pressing against the window, trying to make space. But it was irrelevant, for Sam occupied most of the space, but to make matters worse, he pulled me closer, so that I was pressed to his side tightly.

I shivered, and not because I was cold. Obviously. I felt my eyes widen, and my lips parted when I felt Sam dip his head to whisper in my ear huskily, "Are we going to do this the hard way?"

To the watching patrons, we probably seemed like an average couple—charged with estrogen and testosterone, and all the bat-shit crazy hormones—out to lunch, enjoying each other's company with obvious PDA.

I sucked in a huge breath when I felt Sam's warm, large hand cup my knee, and in response it jerked. I felt Sam's hot breath fan over the shell of my ear as he chuckled, murmuring, "Why so jumpy?"

I whimpered, "No fair."

This made Sam chuckle some more, and he slowly started to rub my knee, moving upward with each decisive swipe. I just about died when his fingers brushed the inside of the middle of my thigh, and even though it was no where near where near my aching va-jay-jay, I was still dramatically affected. My hand clamped down on his and I turned my head, and hissed, "What game do you think you're playing at?"

Sam smirked bringing his hand above the table, resting it comfortably, and then shrugging innocently. I scowled, and to emphasize my point, I craned my neck and placed a wet, open mouthed kiss against his throat, feeling him shudder, "That's what I thought."

We both sat still then, not venturing further, and I thanked god because if he continued with all the touching I would have had a stroke. Seriously, my heart was beating a mile a minute and I couldn't seem to get it to calm the fuck down.

The imprint, I had gathered really did tap into the physical relationship. I didn't know if it was different from other relationships, because truthfully Sam was my first…whatever we were. I didn't have anything to compare him to, or what was happening, so I was running on assumptions. Though I highly doubted girls got riled when a guy touched their hand. Imprint it is.

Just then our waitress came, setting to steaming plates in front of us, along with our drinks. I dug into my food, and noted that Sam was eating one handed, his other arm resting behind me, just on the top of the booth. I smiled inwardly, before proceeding to enjoy my delicious burger.

I finally finish, and I note that Sam—who has finished his entire meal, rather quickly, I might add—is eyeing the spare fries I left on my plate. I chuckle and wordlessly move my plate over slightly, and Sam doesn't even hesitate, rather he obliterates the poor unsuspecting fries.

Sam finishes them off, rubbing his stomach I poke him in the side, "I need to be excused, so could you be bothered to move?"

He nodded, and stood, stretching as I slipped past him, "I'll grab the bill, okay?" I nodded, and continued on my trek to the bathrooms. I pushed it open, entering one of the bright fire engine red stalls.

I did my business, leaving the stall and walking over to the sinks. I turned the knobs, adjusting the heat to my liking before washing my hands. I finished up and walked out, wiping my hands on my black tank top.

I looked up and faltered for a moment. Leah the little whore that she was actually had the audacity to come over to my table, where my man sat. Sam was there with a tight smile on his delicious face, and Leah stood, leaning against the table, trying to subtly flash some cleavage.

I scowled and with a new purpose to my steps I walked over to my table, and I saw that Sam had unfolded into a standing position during my strut over to the table. I was a little over a halfway there when Leah smiled, twirling her fingers around her ugly ass hair, but then shit just got worse when Leah reached out and lightly brushed her fingers along Sam's bicep.

That was _my_ bicep. I quickened my pace and Sam glanced at me before laughing nervously, probably mistaking my anger for him rather than Leah. Once I arrived at my destination, Sam greeted me with a timid, "Hey, Bella…"

I smiled at him, and nudged myself into his side, and he hesitated for a moment before he quickly wrapped an arm around his waist. It took everything in my not to scream _'Suck it bitch, he's mine!' _at Leah, but I restrained myself, and simply looked up at Sam and said—as if I didn't realize that Leah was there, "Hey, baby, you ready to go?"

My sugary sweet coating got the message across to Leah quite clearly when I coupled it with my murderous glare, quickly flashing it to her, and then tugging on Sam's arm, grasping his hand and leading him away when I noted he had nodded.

I walked out of the diner, still clenching Sam's hand, him being left to be tugged along behind me. We had just walked out of the diner and all the way to the car when Sam stopped mid-stride, causing me to end my own hurried stride and crash back into him.

I turned around slowly, my eyes on the ground, ashamed of my behavior and tactics. I felt Sam's heavy stare, and I didn't want to meet it, I couldn't handle more disappointment, more disapproval.

But I didn't have a choice apparently, I realized this when I felt Sam tilting my chin upwards with his finger, forcing me to meet his gaze. He held my chin there, and the moment he was sure I wouldn't look away, he grasped my hips and asked softly, "Hey, you okay?"

I guess he could see the hurt and anger in my eyes before I could hide them and I nodded before grumbling, "I'm fine…it's just that Leah really gets to me. I mean, where does he get off any way? We were clearly there together…stupid Leah, always trying to steal what's mine."

My gaze had dropped towards the end and Sam laughed before teasing, "Is that what I am now, _yours_?"

My eyes flashed up to his in one great big sweep, and I faltered, "I, well…I thought we clarified…" I thought back to that night when I asked Sam to be mine, and he told me that he already was, and that he would be anything I needed him to be.

I floundered, and my cheeks heated dramatically. Sam laughed some more before continuing his smug teasing, "So, you're telling me that you want to essentially be my girlfriend?"

I nodded, before blurting out, "As long as I get to say that you're my boyfriend."

Sam smirked at me and then said in that deep voice that made my knees weak, "Well if it's all right with my girlfriend, I would like to kiss her, with permission of course."

I smiled up at him, and closed my eyes, tilting my head upwards, wordlessly confirming his request. He pulled me closer, so that I was pressed against him more tightly. Our lips joined, Sam immediately dominating with his need for control, but I didn't mind one bit. In fact I liked how he drew my lower lip into his mouth, suckling on it before nipping at it playfully, then soothing the burn with his skilled tongue.

I moaned into his mouth, and slowly rose to the rip of my toes so that I could comfortably weave my fingers through his inky locks. The intensity of the kiss grew, and soon his tongue was invading my mouth as he pushed me up against Shelby.

As I raked my hands through his hair, his hands began to wander south, cupping my ass and squeezing it firmly, causing me to moan again. I pulled away breathlessly, and rested against him, murmuring, "Wow."

Sam laughed breathlessly and echoed, "Yeah, wow is right." His hands moved back up to my hips, leaving a tingly trail.

Suddenly, I was hit with a glorious realization. Maybe I could be that girl…maybe I could be the girl that could accept Sam, and embrace the relationship he was offering. Maybe I could, some day, be that girl who could gladly settle down with Sam, watch him build her a white picket fence, and squeeze out however many puppies he desired, and do it all with a genuine smile.

As I rested against Sam, that far off dream seemed a little more likely, plausible, and attainable. And then, I was smiling again. So with my smile firmly in place, I hugged Sam to me hard, and let my imagination run away with our future.

**A/N: Oh, they are so cute together! Okay, I am a little biased. But can you blame me, you have to love a possessive, jealous Bella…or maybe it's just me. I thought this was a decent chapter; I am pleased with it…even though I suck at writing fluff. So boost my confidence and tell me what you all though of this chapter!**

**Exams went well, and thank you all who wished me luck…it paid off, and I am very pleased with the results. **

**If you liked this chapter please let me know with a review…reviews make me smile and urge me to write the next chapter right away. **

**The playlist of this chapter is:**

**Phenomena—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Zero—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Dudley—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Just Breathe—Pearl Jam**

**Everlong—Foo Fighters**

**Way Out—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Next Chapter: Grocery shopping with Sam Uley. Yum. **

**Please review! They are always appreciated, and I really do try and reply! **

**Bye!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: My sincerest apologies for the extremely late and slow update, however it is with a very unfortunate reason that I was unable to update this story sooner. Unfortunately, there was a family member who passed away, and I was obviously not in a state of mind to be writing, and for all of you who have waited ever so patiently, I thank you. **

**As per usual, thank you for all the reviews, they are all appreciated, and read, I truly appreciate it and I do reply when I get a chance. All of those who checked all those boxes with 'Favorite So-and-so' next to them, thank you as well. **

**This chapter is grocery shopping with Sam Uley as promised, and I hope you enjoy this fun activity with Sam in all its glory. **

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended—all characters, settings, overall idea of the Twilight Saga are owned by S.M. **

**__**

**Boarders**

**Chapter Sixteen: Pushing carts and playful hearts…corny, eh?**

After our little…erm, bonding time against the side of Sam's truck we were quick to hop into the truck, get some space before we officially declared ourselves exhibitionists with our less than PG public displays. But I didn't mind our displays, in fact I wouldn't mind if a certain brown-eyed-slut saw me all up on my man…ugh, Leah.

_My man,_ I tested again in my mind. It sounded perfect, and I loved the title as much as I loved saying it, which was a lot. I glanced at Sam from my peripheral vision, and my heart swelled, filling with an emotion much too foreign for my liking. But I didn't let it bother me, for I was too preoccupied with how _happy_ Sam looked.

He looked his age, he looked carefree, he looked _happy_. I felt a prideful grin spread across my face knowing that I had caused that glowing happiness, that I had been the one to breathe life into his inner nineteen year old.

With my eyes still focused on him—thankfully oblivious to my adoration—I was once again reminded of how beautiful he was. I mean as a person, sure the package his person was wrapped up in wasn't painful to look at but, Sam, with his pearly whites and killer cheek bones exemplified what it truly meant to be beautiful as you were on the inside as you were on the outside.

Sam, who looked relaxed and content, looked over and with a smile asked, "What?" I shook my heat, drawing my lower lip into my mouth, gnawing on it, before sighing, "Nothing, it's just…that you actually look nineteen."

Sam frowned, looking at me cross eyed for a few beats before, echoing his previous confusion, "What? What's that supposed mean?"

I laughed, "It's just that before, when I knew nothing of you, and your furry entirety, I always thought you looked so stressed, so…tense? Not really, tense, but you always seemed to be preoccupied with something other than the present. You always seemed to be thinking, almost worrying? It aged you, I guess, not like you had grey hairs, but it made you seem much older than you were, and I often wondered what a nineteen year old could have to think about so much with such obsession, or if you just had a stick shoved up your ass like Paul said. But now I know."

Sam nodded, and said, "Yeah, I did have a lot to think about. Like whether or not I had to lock you up in the car…you could never follow instructions."

"I resent that!" I objected haughtily, "I was under the distinct impression that you were a prick who loved a good power trip, and I just did whatever I could to piss you off. Part of it was proving to you as well as me that I wasn't affected by you, you know?"

Sam frowned yet again, and before he could ask a question I answered, "When I didn't know about the imprint, all I had to go on was what I had gathered. I knew little things like my heart would go bat shit crazy when you were near me or close to me, and when you touched me—whether by accident, or purposefully—I would tremble or shake after you did.

"But that is beside the point; the point is that you were affecting me much more as a person than silly little physical reactions. You often had me questioning myself, and who I was. You had me asking myself the hard questions, like if this was who I wanted to be. Was I truly content with getting shit faced every other day? But I am glad you did have that affect because had you not, I cannot confidently say that I would be here, and I want to be here."

Sam's grin, if even possible grew tenfold, leaving me to wonder if his cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling too much. But before I could ask another question we were pulling into the parking lot of the grocery store, _Sun_ _Valley_. He smoothly steered the rumbling truck into a parking space close to the front before cutting the engine, pulling the key out of the ignition.

"Do ever wonder why they called it _Sun_ _Valley_?" I asked as I de-buckled myself.

Sam looked at me with a curious frown, and a small smile, "No, why?"

"I don't know, I mean when you really think of it, it's kind of ironic?"

"What do you mean, ironic? It's the name of a grocery store."

"Ironic as in they put the grocery store called _Sun_ _Valley_, in the wettest place on earth. Where it rains constantly, and we rarely see any sun—unless we are blessed with a dry spell, of course."

Sam laughs, shaking his head before remarking, "You think way too much, you know that?"

"You have no idea…" I grumbled, sliding out of Shelby, quickly closing the door behind me. I rounded the end of the truck, walking ahead already, forgetting about Sam momentarily—my mind preoccupied as I thought of all the times that I over-thought.

Sam jogged up beside me, easily wrapping an arm around my shoulders—as if he had done so a million times before, when in reality this was about the second or third time. Even if it was the second or third time his pleasurable warmth still enveloped me, and I involuntarily took a gulp of air, smelling a musky, woodsy scent coupled with the smell of a burning camp fire. I shivered at the smell, before wrapping an arm around his waist, squeezing his side and enjoying the tingly feeling I was experiencing where his skin met mine.

"Did you just sniff me?" Sam laughed, looking down at me. I squinted up at him—his enormous head was just blocking the sun, albeit barely, and the edges peeked out around his head, kind of like a halo.

I smirked before looking away, blushing mildly, "Maybe. Would you have a problem with it if I were to tell you that I did?"

Sam chuckled before ducking his head, his nose meeting the crown of my head, his lips aligning with my ear, "Nope."

Mind you, he said this before taking a deep breath, and I scrunched up my nose, hoping that I didn't smell too bad. Apparently I didn't, for Sam hummed his approval and appreciation as he pulled back.

I felt mildly embarrassed, but before I could probe the emotion too much I found us entering the grocery store. Once inside the store, I walked over to the area where they kept the always butchered and broken buggies, yanking one out of its line up.

I wheeled it over to where Sam stood waiting, and I pushed past, expecting him to fall into step beside me, but of course Sam did the unexpected. He had to be cool like that. Instead Sam grasped the buggies' handle, placing his hands on the outside of mine, aligning his step with mine, so that we were perfectly pushing the buggy in our synchronization.

Now, if you don't have the visual, let me just shed some light. In this lovely pose, Sam was pressed against me. His chest brushing my back with every step, his arms teasing mine with every accidental touch, and his groin was just above my lower back.

Yeah. You can imagine how my hormones reacted.

But to make it even worse people were staring, and I didn't blame them. Compared to Sam I was extremely small, he dwarfed me exponentially with his huge frame, big broad shoulders with his bulky muscles, and equally matching height.

We must have made quite the picture.

I huffed, my frustration obvious. Sam chuckled, his back and all other body parts shaking and brushing against me.

"Don't you dare Samuel Uley. We went over this in the diner. Do not make me do something I will come to regret." I hissed, knowing he would hear me. I kept my voice muted, knowing that onlookers would hear, and gleefully spread the news, this being a small town.

Sam chuckled _again _making me squirm, and before I could protest he had bent his head, once again aligning his sinfully sweet mouth to align with my all too eager ears, "And just what will you do little girl?"

I shivered in response, bristling and getting turned on by his endearment all at once. As if Sam knew this he chuckled _again_, nipping at my ear lobe. I moaned quietly, ashamed of his control over me and my traitorous body.

I knew he was just playing, messing with me really, but somewhere in the heart of my fears, I felt scared. I was frightened by his tight grip on me, how easily he seemed to bend and pull. I shuddered inwardly, and tried not to think about it too intensely. However the thoughts wouldn't be hushed, they screamed out in my head, shouting at me. I clenched my eyes shut, and resisted the urge to clamp my hands over my ears.

I knew with the imprint that Sam could easily manipulate and control me, but I could do the same, although this held little comfort as I trembled in my cage like the little girl Sam said me to be.

Frowning I knew that in this instant that I didn't want to be that little girl. I was strong, I was independent, and I could and would be his equal. So with a small smirk I pushed back into him, rubbing up against him in all the right ways.

Sam hissed, and I took advantage thwarting his hands from the handle, forcing him to relinquish his hold and fall into step beside me. Sam was looking smug, and I had to look away, his smugness dragging my fear to centre stage.

As if he himself could feel my anxiety Sam looked at me questioningly, and I shook my head, not wanting to knock the easy balance we seemed to have struck. Sam frowned, and I felt a wave anger, but I knew it wasn't mine. I let my breath out in a whoosh, and glared at him, "What the hell was that?"

Sam's shoulders slumped, "Depending on what is going on we can feel each others' emotions. It depends on what they are related to, the situation, and how strong they are. When we're close like this the emotions are super strong, but with some distance the emotions are diluted, but still felt faintly through the bond."

I nodded along, storing away this information for later examination. With this new little slice of information I asked, "Why didn't I feel all the other emotions before?"

"You couldn't because you hadn't yet to acknowledge and accept the imprint, I however, could feel your emotions, faintly, though, it was like there was a wall. It felt like I was pressing my ear up against a wall, one that was thin enough to let me hear, but still muted the voices. Obviously, the wall is no more, and we can both monitor each other closely." Sam appeased, holding eye contact, gauging my reaction.

I shrugged my shoulders, "Cool."

Sam chuckled and said, "You seem to be dealing well."

I nodded, turning the corner and heading down the frozen food aisle, "I'm not a raging bitch all the time, you know. I do have my moments."

"That's not what I meant, it's just…I don't know I was expecting a little more—"

"Resistance?" I offered, stopping the cart, and arching my brow before turning to the array of frozen pizzas.

Sam breathed out, nodding, and I could almost see him rubbing the back of his neck, and it wasn't a surprised when I saw what I had envisioned as I tossed a pepperoni frozen pizza into the cart.

"Sam, did you ever think that maybe I am tired of fighting you and all of this? Contrary to popular belief, I do have a soft side, not that I air it out openly, never mind publicly, but I do have that one side everyone seems to think I lack. So with that being said, I was tired of fighting what was happening, and when all the pieces were put together, I didn't bother to go and grab my war paint. I was exhausted by the battle, not ready for the war that I would have to fight if I resisted. But at the same time I knew I couldn't hurt you, deny you who you are, and ask you for a watered down version that I believed would better suit my needs. I couldn't do it knowing it would hurt you, and me, so I openly wore my heart on my sleeve for you. I do want to be here, with you, and I have never been happier with a decision in my life.

"So, I will deal. I will try and take everything you have to offer, process it without cutting you out deliberately, and hopefully accept it, all the while embracing the imprint bond." I said, looking over at him as I pushed the cart.

"That's a pretty tall order." Sam murmured, looking at me apologetically, knowing what he was asking of me.

I shrugged, grabbing frozen french fries out of the freezer, and tossed them into my cart beside the pizza box. I paused, facing him and grabbed his hand, entwining my fingers with his, squeezing it, before I sighed, "Yeah, but you're worth it."

Sam smirked, and raised his free hand brought it up to cup the back of my neck. He guided me forward gently, tilting my head back slightly, all the while bringing me closer. He lowered his lips to mine, applying little pressures as our lips moved smoothly together, moving easily as I poured all my devotion, and promise into the kiss.

He pulled away and took my spot, pushing the cart, leaving me to match his step. I did so easily, and stumbled when Sam said in a serious voice, "Thank you, Bella. I really do appreciate it."

I frowned, "You act as though I am doing you a favor. Sam, think about it, you're stuck with me for life. Believe me, I should be thanking you."

"Sounds perfect to me, I wouldn't want anything or anyone else, and I am not just saying that because you're my imprint." Sam said, imploring me to me believe and I almost did, but I fell just short, releasing an un-lady-like snort.

"What will it take for you to believe me?"

"Time," I said, meeting his gaze. "Just give me time."

Sam nodded, and we continued to walk the aisles together, I, occasionally stopping to toss something in. Sam frowned when I started to toss baking ingredients in, cocking his head to the side, "You bake?"

I turned my head to meet his stare, and I explained, "I used to. When I was younger I really liked to bake, just simple stuff though, nothing fancy. But then I discovered alcohol, and quickly learned that getting drunk was _way_ more fun than making sure my cookies were a perfect golden brown."

Sam snorted and I joined him chuckling, and I waited for the inevitable question, "What are you going to make?"

"I was thinking that I would make something simple, a _classic_ if you will…chocolate chip cookies. And yes, before you ask, this batch is for you. Not that it would stop you from breaking into my house to get your hands on the cookies."

Sam protested, "I would not!"

"Don't deny it Sam. Denial isn't healthy."

"I am not denying anything!"

"Sure you aren't, whatever makes you feel better."

"Hey! I would not do that, you and I both know that."

"Do we really? I mean you have, on multiple occasions eaten the food off my plate, and I do seem to recall a certain occasion when you actually stole a slice of toast with out consent." I said, my tone patronizing.

"You make it sound like I kidnapped a child!" Sam shouted, earning a few stares as he threw his hands up in the air in his exasperation.

I laughed before muttering sadly in a horrified voice, "Poor toast didn't even see it coming. You weren't even gentle. You just tore into it, ate it all in one go. Did you even chew, or taste it for that matter?"

Sam growled, "Yes I tasted it. It was delicious by the way."

"I'm sure he was. But I will never know. You, Sam Uley, are a horrible man…robbing me of my toast. You should be ashamed." I continued, teasing him relentlessly.

"Are you done?" Sam asked impatiently, raising his eyebrows.

"For now." I said smugly, not even trying to mask my delight.

__

Shelby chugged up to the house, saddling up to the curb and Sam cut the engine. I turned to him, ready to thank him for his help, and grocery shopping with me, when he asked incredulously, "You really don't think I am going to have you carry all those bags in without my help, all by yourself?"

"Sam," I said arching my eyebrow, "It's five bags I think I can manage."

"Come on," he whined, "Don't you want to make your boyfriend happy?"

My heart fluttered when Sam said 'boyfriend', I wasn't quite over the thrill yet, obviously. Sam smirked, when he presumably heard my heart's ridiculous reaction, before pouting.

Damn that is hot. Sam Uley was pouting. I like it. A lot.

Sam held his pout but I could see a certain smugness in his yes, he knew what he was doing. Huffing, I rolled my eyes at him before conceding, "Fine. If you really want to. But I want to carry two bags. You got that? I'm not completely inept."

Sam hopped out after hearing my orders, and I followed suit after de-buckling. I walked the length of the car, rounding the bed, meeting Sam who was arriving there just as I was. I stood facing him, half way into a turn to grab the groceries when he stopped me, grasping my hip, turning me back to him.

I looked up at him questioningly, and he brought his hand up to cup my cheek, meanwhile rubbing soothing circles into my hip bone. I moaned inwardly, but kept it in, not wanting another embarrassing moment.

"I know you're not inept, babe. Far from that. I just like taking care of you, you know, helping? It makes me happy." Sam murmured, pleading with me to understand.

I nuzzled further into his palm, the warmth feeling divine against my cheek. I nodded, "I know. But it's going to take some getting used to. That's for sure."

Sam laid a chaste kiss on my forehead, whispering as he pulled away, "Thank you."

Before he could get too far I fisted his shirt, holding him there as I held eye contact, trying to make my point clear, "Stop thanking me, Sam. I am doing you no favors, I am just as happy to be here as you are. You owe me nothing."

Sam looked startled, not realizing just how I well I knew him, and could read him. But regardless of his shock, I stood up on the tip of my toes, landing a kiss on the closest spot I could reach, which was his neck.

I pulled away, and Sam pulled me into a tight hug. I stood there comfortably, hugging him back just as tightly, enjoying his embrace. I laid my cheek against his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart, as it _thump_-_thump_-_thumped_. I smiled, happy and content with everything.

We both pulled back after Sam had laid a delicate kiss to the crown of my head, both of our smiles ten miles wide, and equally toothy.

"I think we are the best couple ever, you know that?" I said, as I grabbed my two self-appointed bags.

"And why would that be?" Sam asked, grabbing the rest, which were all way heavier than mine.

"How many couples can say they go from toast kidnappers, to the deepest of shit?" I said, walking up the walk way.

"How poetic." Sam remarked dryly as we both clomped up the steps.

"Bite me."

"Don't tempt me." Sam said, and I looked back, seeing Sam with his side long grin, gnashing his teeth together, as if he just took a bite out of something.

I shivered a little, and opened the door awkwardly with my hands still carrying the bags. I stumbled in, tripping over the lip of the door frame, feeling myself blush when I heard Sam laugh.

"It's this god damned hair…I wore it up for a reason…you know, to see where I am going. I have come to value that privilege."

"You'll live, plus I'll catch you if you fall."

"Yeah, sure. Ten bucks says you'll let me fall, then laugh before helping me up."

"You wound me, how can you think so little of your boyfriend?"

"History dictates that that it could possibly happen. You know, so I can say that I know my ten bucks won't be wasted."

"Look at you guys, arguing like an old couple, you're not even married yet." My mother laughed, obviously having heard, and probably watched us stumble into the house and into the kitchen.

My cheeks flared again when I heard the 'yet' part of my mother's sentence and greeting, and I tossed her a glare from where I stood in the kitchen. She smirked, trying to look all 'Oops, did I say that in my outside voice?'. I clench my jaw and tensed even further when I heard Sam's nervous laughter.

I turned to him apprehensively, but he just threw me a smirk, and began to unload the groceries. My mother was still in the room, watching as we both unloaded what I had bought, which only added to the awkwardness of the situation. I glared at her, imploring her to leave us alone.

She raised he arms, as if saying 'Okay, fine' before she turned and slipped out of the room. I winced, "Sorry about her, she's overwhelming in that really not so cool way. I mean—"

"Bella," Sam laughed, setting his last item on the counter. "It's fine. I like your mom, she's cool."

"That's what you say now. Don't let yourself be fooled. I'm surprised she hasn't sent the invitations out yet."

Sam laughed, and I stared, "I'm serious."

He just chuckled shaking his head, and I joined in, grabbing the plastic bag off the counter, balling them up before putting them in the designated drawer where we kept all the other plastic bags from our grocery shopping trips.

With that I awkward talk evaded I asked, "Do you want anything to drink?"

"Just a water, please and thank you." Sam smoothly replied.

I nodded, grabbing a glass before filling it with water from the tap, and setting it down in front of him. I wordlessly began to put everything away, leaving the cookie ingredients out; I was planning on making them today.

Sam's eyes lit up, and I snorted inwardly at his excitement.

"Are you going to make them today?"

"Nah, I was thinking of leaving them out like this, doesn't it make a great centre piece?" I asked, my sarcasm thick.

Sam rolled his eyes, and I volunteered, "Yes. I am making them, do you want to help?"

Sam nodded, standing up, and joining me where I stood. I looked at him for a moment, "You can't eat the cookie dough, all right? You're here to help me, and you eating the cookies before they are even baked is not what I consider to be helpful."

Sam nodded, rolling his eyes.

With that, I stuck my pinky out, and he frowned before linking them with a smirk, "You pinky swear?" I asked, sounding more like a four year old rather than a seventeen year old.

"Yes, I Sam Uley, pinky swear not to eat the cookie dough."

"We'll see." I sniffed.

After his little pledge I set him to work, starting with sifting the amount of designated flour. I worked on prepping the oven—which consisted of me pressing a button, tiring, I know—the pans, and I put the butter in the microwave for fifteen seconds, bringing it down to the requested room temperature.

After our jobs were complete, I followed the instructions, beating the ingredients together with my electric mixer, asking Sam occasionally for help when I needed him to add something.

Once the mix was made, I turned my back for two seconds, intent on grabbing to spoons for the each of us so we could easily divide and place the cookies on the pans. But when I turned around, ready to hand Sam his spoon, I screeched, "You pinky swore!"

Sam, who was just sucking the last of the cookie dough from his fingers said, "Sorry…your back was turned. I thought if I moved quickly enough…I wouldn't get caught."

I lightly thwarted him on the arm, and muttered, "First the toast, now the cookie dough, you're becoming a serial eater Sam. Don't make me put a lock on both of our fridges."

Sam growled, and said, "Can I have my spoon now?"

"Do you promise not to eat any more cookie dough?" I countered.

"Not while you're looking…" Sam muttered.

I raised my eye brows, "What was that?"

"Nothing."

"That's what I thought." I said, handing him his spoon.

I placed the bowl the cookie mix was in between us, a pan on either side, one for the each of us. I took the first scoop, laying it down on my sheet, and Sam peeked over, scooping up some, matching the same amount. We went on like that, Sam always checking if he had done too much or too little, comparing is amount to however much I put on the pan and by the time we finished our pans were practically identical.

I placed them in the oven that was ready, and I turned to Sam. "Now, we wait."

__

"Theses are really good." Sam said through a mouth full of cookie. He swallowed, and licked his fingers clean before smiling.

I nibbled on mine, and quipped, "Which is better the dough or the finished product?"

"It's a tie."

I was sitting on the island, or table…or whatever you called this thing. I was swinging my legs around and Sam was leaning his lower back against the edge of the counter top beside me.

My mother had gone out already, saying that she was going to meet my dad at the hotel instead. Which meant my dad was all suave and had a surprise there for her, and I sent her off shuddering the whole way, envisioning heinous images of parental sex.

I grimaced just thinking about it, and shoved my cookie in my mouth before my entire appetite was viciously killed off.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, standing before me, rubbing my thighs a couple times before leaning in, and placing his hands on either side of my frame.

"You don't want to know." I shuddered, gagging inwardly at the images that came forward unbidden.

Sam laughed and in a deep voice said, "Maybe I can help take your mind off of it."

I was too shocked, and was momentarily frozen when Sam leaned in, proceeding in pressing his lips to mine. I wasn't expecting it, and hesitated for a moment before kissing him back, letting him lead.

The kiss was hungry, passionate, and I loved it. I kissed him back with just as much urgency, matching the intensity easily as I shoved my fingers in his inky locks, and wrapped my legs around his slim waist, pulling him closer.

Sam moved away from my mouth, laying hungry wet kisses along my jaw line, nibbling on the soft corner before breathing, "Do you have anything against hickies?"

I was too focused on the feeling on his hand rubbing circles around and over my hip bones, said circles getting dangerously bigger with each swipe, and failed to say no, and with that, Sam nuzzled into my neck, laying a series of kisses there. They slowed as Sam chose his spot, or I believe that is what happened, I was mildly distracted, you see. He sucked and licked with a fever I didn't know existed, and I moaned, arching my neck to the side, giving him more room to work with.

He pulled away shortly after, laying a chaste kiss on what I assumed to be his mark. I was panting heavily, and I rested against him, ignoring the throbbing of my neck in that one particular spot.

Sam brought his hand to my neck, gently rubbing his handy work, more specifically the nape of my neck, and I melted even further, that spot being my weak point. I rested against him, and let out a breathy chuckle, "Is it really bad?"

Sam paused, seemingly to examine it or it really was just that bad, before he answered, "Not really, I mean…everyone is going to know you're mine."

I chuckled, meeting his gaze, "You got what you wanted, I am going to have to wear my hair down for the next couple of weeks."

Sam smiled broadly, and said smoothly, "I always get what I want."

"Oh, really?" I said, arching my brow.

"Yup."

"Well what about you?"

"Huh?"

"How are people going to know you belong to me?"

Sam shrugged, and chuckled, "Judging by this morning with Leah, I highly doubt they'll get too far before you pounce."

"Well, what if I am not there?" I asked, frowning; now just realizing that I was going to have to do some serious bitch slapping to make sure people knew that he was _my_ man.

"Hopefully there won't be a day where you're not at my side." Sam said, serious all over again.

I let my hands slide down from his hair to his neck, clasping them there, rubbing the sides of his neck soothingly. "There won't be."

Sam held my gaze and spoke, "Regardless of what happens, I'll always be yours, Bella."

I nodded, and felt the need to clarify something, "You talk as though as what we have got going here has an expiration date. You do realize that I am here to stay, right? As in I am always going to be here, if I can help it. I won't leave you Sam, I swear that I won't."

"Pinky swear?"

"Yes, I Bella Swan, pinky swear that I will never leave you."

We linked our pinkies, sealing the deal with a kiss, and with my eyes closed, his lips against mine, I only hoped that I would be able to keep my promise as easily as I had made it. But something told me, that it wouldn't be so simple. However I was in it to win it, so to speak, and I was willing to fight for Sam, and what we had, what we could be.

**A/N: Awe. So cute…although, again, I am biased. I really liked this chapter I thought it was very cute, and all around fluff-tastic, with a perfect sprinkling of angst. **

**Hopefully you guys liked it…if you did, let me know please. I could really use some motivation for the next chapter.**

**If you liked it leave a review. **

**Oh, and for the next chapter what would you rather: Sam and Bella cliff diving together, or washing Shelby (Sam's car) together?**

**The playlist for this chapter is:**

**Razz—Kings of Leon**

**New Frontier—Kings of Leon**

**If it feels right—Anya Marina**

**All the same to me—Anya Marina**

**Vertigo—Anya Marina**

**The great salt lake—Band of Horses**

**Hopefully you liked this and let me know, please!!!**

**Laters!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I AM SO SORRY!!!!**

**First off I am so sorry, I am so upset it has taken me this long to update, it's disgusting. I am so, so sorry. I did not intend for this to take so long. Between the virus my computer got that took my baby out of commission for a whole week, and then I got a crap load of work, and if I want to keep up my average I need to do it, and do it well, so that absorbed a lot of time. Then I went away and didn't get back until late last night.**

**I feel like such a horrid author, and thanks to all who have been waiting patiently! Even for my readers who are ticked and thought I abandoned the story, thanks for waiting! **

**Okay this one is very long; with a hint of citrus so to all who don't like some sexy Sam time, skip over it. If not, proceed with no caution!**

**I hope you enjoy it, and if you do let me know! Reviews make me happy, and update quickly if I there are no other things to attend to. **

**So let me know, and I leave you all to read!**

**Enjoy!**

**Boarders**

**Chapter Seventeen: Building my relationship is like building IKEA furniture. **

"You didn't think that would be something I would need to know, seriously, Sam?!" I screeched, my cheeks heating with my intense anger. I was so fucking pissed. It wasn't just this, it was this entire messed up situation.

Sam and I, yesterday, after our quality time that consisted of heavy promises and chocolate chip cookies, had decided that we would head out to his place and he would get ready for his shift, or our shift I should say.

While at his place I was nosey, poking around the main floor, and I saw a picture of a woman on one of the shelves in the living room. I assumed it to be his mother—with her lined face, but still, she was an older beauty, she had aged well. I quickly moved on from there, and Sam—who had been in the kitchen, caught me and told me to come sit down, apparently he was making dinner. I did so, and over dinner I learned about him. I learned it all from favorite color, to hopes and dreams, and the fears and doubts that haunted him.

It was four in the mourning now, and I had two hours left in this car with him, more like a prison. I was pissed off, we had just left from a call site and it was another 'animal-attack', or so I was lead to believe.

"I am sorry, Bella. It's just…I kind of forgot, and no opportunity seemed solid, and I didn't want to knock what we had going, you know? You were happy, and I didn't want to dump more of my shit on you by saying, 'hey, you know what else is really cool about being a werewolf, we have a natural enemy: the leech, also known as a vampire to humans.'" Sam huffed, glancing between me in the road.

I clenched my jaw, and roughly scrub at my face in my frustration. I need to calm down, I note. I take a deep breath, and just remain silent, trying to sort this out. I can't just react like I normally do, or did with Sam. I know this, but it is just so god damned hard now. Before, when I knew nothing, and ignorance was truly bliss, I could react anyway I wanted, feelings didn't need to be taken into account, nor did consequences, but now they did.

I release the tension from my jaw, letting it roll down into my hands and I clench my sweaty palms into fists, as I think. I don't know what to do, how does one react when your boyfriend tells you he loves to gnaw on vampire bones? I roll my eyes behind my firmly shut lids at my own wording, and take yet another deep breath.

"Bella, baby, I am sorry. I just…" Sam sighs, and I raise my finger and say, "Don't. Just don't."

Sam is silent after that, good dog. I snort at that, and open my eyes. I see the green trees flying past, seeming even more annoying in my agitated state. I huff, and brew in my silence. Rationally, I can see why he didn't want to tell me, as well as why he didn't tell me.

I get it. I know that I am a raging bitch and change and I don't get along well. I understand that history doesn't exactly paint me in the best light regarding affairs of the heart, but I felt hurt. It wasn't so much the lying, sure that sucked balls, but more so it was the fact that he hadn't told me out of fear. Sam didn't believe me when I told him that I was willing to deal with all the things that came with being a werewolf, and the worst part was that I suspected that Sam didn't trust me, or my word.

I felt like I had taken a punch to the stomach, and a wave of nausea swept through me once I had fully absorbed that little tidbit. Sam didn't trust me. I swallowed thickly, and tried to survive the next little bout of nausea.

I rolled down my window and took in huge gulps of the fresh air, hoping it would help. It did, settling my stomach as I focused solely on my breathing.

"Hey, are you okay?" Sam said, concerned eyes flickering from me to the road.

I nodded, feeling the cool wind caress my face, and soothe me. It tickled my scalp, and I enjoyed the feeling of my hair bending and moving to its will.

I pushed the little button, and the window slid back into place with ease. I left it open a bit, just to allow the fresh air to filter into the car. I leaned back against my head rest, letting my head naturally loll to the side, towards Sam.

I was resting my eyes for a good twenty minutes before I could no longer tamp down the curiosity, the need for an answer. It rose up in me, a tall mighty pillar, and it seemed stiff and raw as it plagued me. I shut my eyes tightly, and tried to calm down.

It wasn't working.

Part of me wanted to know, know so badly that it seemed like the only thing I could say, breathe, do, and the other part, the cowardly part, distinctly remembered the fact that I shouldn't ask a question I didn't want the answer to.

So with my question lodged in the back of my throat, I held it there and peacefully drifted into a state of rest, where I could relax, and not have to deal with my relationship that tied me to Sam.

__

I could hear a lulled voice, chanting something foreign, but somehow very familiar. I frowned, and tried to ignore the weird chant. But it was getting progressively louder, and I had no choice but to acknowledge it when movement accompanied the chant.

"Bella, wake up, c'mon, we are at your house…"

A voice I recognized as Sam's requested. I scowled, and ignored his request, trying to find that blissful state of unconsciousness. Sam was persistent, and shook me again, causing my eyes to flutter open.

My own eyes were met with Sam's honey brown ones and I am immediately reminded that those eyes don't trust me that they don't believe, that they don't have faith in me. I swallow around the large lump that has taken up residence at the back of my throat, and quickly flick my eyes to the clock situated at the dash.

It glows in the dark, and the numbers brightly read, _6:05_, sighing, I peel my gaze away, and murmur, "Good night, Sam."

I was fiddling with the door handle, my hands now seeming too large, less nimble than ever as I tried to carry out the simple act. Panic seized me as I tried to make my escape, only furthering my troubles. Anxiety spurred me on, breathing down my neck as I began to roughly move my hands about.

"Bella, stop!" Sam commanded, grabbing my wrists with his big hand. He had yanked them away from the door and towards him, forcing my entire body to twist towards his direction. I kept my eyes off of his, but pulled my hands out of his, resting them in my lap.

"Listen, I am so sorry I didn't tell you, I just…" Sam trailed off, and I looked up, watching as he ran a hand through his inky locks and exhaled his frustrations.

"Do you trust me?" I blurted out, clapping my hand over my mouth, ashamed of my control.

Sam's eyes widened momentarily, and then he floundered, stuttering as he tried to come up with the best answer that would please me. He was hesitating, and that was answer enough for me.

I clamped my mouth shut, fearful of more verbal diarrhea, and turned away, proceeding to open the door with much more ease. I had the door open and I climbed out after unbuckling my seatbelt, meanwhile Sam was fiddling with his own seatbelt.

I was out now, free as I headed up the walkway.

"Wait! Bella!"

I kept walking, eyes fixated on the destination.

"Bella, hold up!"

My shoulders tensed, and my step faltered.

"Isabella, stop right now!" Sam commanded his voice serious and frustrated. But it was a command, the double timbre to his voice was clear, and I instantly knew who I was dealing with clearly, Sam, the Alpha.

To my utter shock, my body froze. I felt my eyes widen in surprise, and I clenched my jaw, somehow feeling offended that he would dare to command me, his supposed partner, his equal, as he did his lowly pack members.

"Turn around."

Resenting myself, and traitorous body, I did as I was told and turned to face him. The action was seemingly involuntary, my body moved in an awkward jerk that left me with my eyes cast down. I didn't want to see his face, his eyes; I knew they would be hard, and controlled, exuding dominance.

I took in a deep breath, and lifted my eyes, mentally prepping myself for the assault. I looked at him, my anger rushing through my blood, pumping through my heart, I felt more a live, and with my anger fresh as an open wound I spat:

"Don't you ever, _ever_ fucking order me around like you just did! Do you understand me, Samuel? You are not Alpha here. Your testosterone may disagree, a well as your wolf side, by I don't give two shits, because if you so much as even think about ordering me around like you do Paul or Jared, I will shove my foot so far up your ass that you won't know who to order to remove it, am I clear?"

Sam clenched his jaw, and glared, "Is that a threat?"

I sucked in a deep breath. Sam was Alpha, I got that, and he was feeling threatened here. He knew I was challenging him, and he was going to have to deal. I wasn't going to play goody two shoes over here, and ask how high when he said jump.

"It's whatever you make it out to be, Sam. If you see it as a threat, fine. I see it as me clearly stating what I want, and that is the only way that this relationship is going to work." I said, my voice calm and clear—I knew I was speaking the truth, and it fell from my lips with great ease.

Sam released some of his tension, but his frustration remained as he attempted to explain himself.

"Listen, I am sorry. I am Alpha. It is apart of whom I am, and I can't help it. I revert back to it instinctually when I am not in control or feel as though I am not in control. So, for ordering you to stop like that, I apologize. I just can't help it.

"And as for your other question. Bella, I do trust you to some extent. It's just that…I am new to this just as you are. Sure I have had a lot of time to adjust to the idea, but that was done alone, and I wasn't working with another person while I was figuring it all out. So I am struggling to find the adequate balance in this relationship. I know I am not doing it properly, but I really am trying.

"This wasn't how I pictured tonight. I certainly didn't anticipate you talking to Jared, and him blowing this shit wide open. I didn't see you questioning me, dissecting my very actions and words. I pictured it far differently."

I ran a hand through my hair, fisting it, causing it to pull at my hair, creating a delicious sting. Sighing I said, "I don't diminish any thing that you have gone through up until this point. I won't even stick my foot in my mouth by saying I understand, because I don't. I may not ever understand what this is like for you, but with that being said it doesn't mean I can't try.

"Sam, this is a two way street we are working with here. We have to be honest, and more importantly we can't hold back, it will only hurt us in the long run. I know it's a tall order, but you not trusting me has really altered this, and I am going to ask you to try and actually believe me when I tell you that you can be brutally honest with me about the whole werewolf thing. I mean it when I say I stick around. I need you to actually placing some faith in those words, in me."

Sam nodded, and argued, "I get that and that's something I am going have to do, to work on, but by the same token, you have to as well. You have to start trusting me, trusting that I am happy here with you, that I wouldn't want to be any where else."

I nodded and felt the heavy weight of exhaustion crushing me. I began to turn away, muttering, "Now that's all settled, I have an appointment with my pillow."

I was halfway through my drowsy turn when I felt his hot hand on my wrist, pulling me back to him. I stumbled in my surprise turn and I slammed back into his toned chest. I groaned, and looked up at him questioningly.

"No good night kiss?" Sam asked, with his cheeky smile firmly in place.

"You mean good _morning_ kiss, not good _night_."

"Same thing."

"Not really."

"Are you going to kiss me or not?"

" I won't if that's how you're going to ask for one."

"Please, Bella?" Sam requested, his husky voice wrapping around me, caressing me. My lower abdomen stirred, as it was teased out of its state of slumber. I shivered in the warm morning air, and was now very aware of just how close I was to Sam.

I was pressed tightly to him—his large hand holding my there with a little pressure. His heat was unbelievable, delicious pressed against me. I gave a small moan, feeling the familiar ache between my legs, my nipples feeling stiff and hard as they rubbed against the fabric of my bra, I made another sound, one I couldn't identify as something other than pathetic. I closed my eyes, and my head fell back slightly, tipping upward, offering my lips in response.

Sam first brushed his lips against mine, a tease of what was to come. He repeated this action again, applying a little pressure before moving away again. It was a moment before he made his next pass, this time nipping at my lips. He soothed the playful bites with his tongue, swiping it across the seam of my lips. I allowed my lips to open, a breathy gasp escaping just before he took advantage of my parted lips suckling on my lower lip. He tugged on it, just enough for it to sting before actually kissing me.

His lips were heated and controlling against mine, dominating me, commanding. I gave a whimper, and Sam growled, flicking my tongue with his. I attempted to wrestle for control, but eventually allowed him to do as he pleased—languidly playing with my own tongue, exploring my mouth to the fullest.

Finally, when I could feel my lungs demanding oxygen, and was on the brink of pulling away, Sam did. He was smirking, probably proud of himself. His hand was still pressing me to him, and his calloused hand still cradled the back of my neck.

I was still in my post-hot-make-out-session fog, and kind of slumped against him. He chuckled and I knew it was laced with a hint of pride. I roll my eyes inwardly, but I can admit that that kiss was impressive, and left me with weak knees.

Sam's hand that was at the back of my neck slipped down to join its twin on my back, and he laced them together once both of his hands settled around the general area of my lower back.

It's kind of odd, we're standing in the middle of my walkway, I wrapped up in Sam's arms, my forehead bowed against his chest, meeting in the low centre of his pectoral muscles, and we are just there. But then again, it is early morning and no one is awake to see our weird habits.

Sighing, I snuggle in deeper, wrapping my arms around his waist, and try not to think of just how hard this relationship is. I mean, to outsiders it probably seems great, you know? Finding your soul mate, finding someone who is irrevocably tied to you at such an age, but more so the fact that I have found someone who I can trust to be a constant, to always respect me, to always be there for me. But the thing is, that sure it's great, but we are navigating some rough waters here, and there is much room for error. Nothing scares me more than the thought of hurting Sam, of messing my relationship up with him like I did with Jake.

At the mention of Jake I inwardly winced, feeling my heart thud painfully and guilt settles quickly in my stomach like a brick. Jake was a testament to just how badly I could screw some one over, and I didn't want for that to someday be Sam and I. I shuddered at the thought, but kept my emotions at bay, not wanting to drag more of my fears that I promised Sam to be rid of into the limelight.

"Are we still going to chill with the guys today?" I asked, my voice kid of muffled as it disappeared into the fabric of his uniform shirt. Earlier in the night we had talked about getting together with the guys, to go cliff diving.

"Yeah, what time?" Sam asked, letting me call the shots.

"I was thinking noon-ish?"

"Sounds like a plan, Bells." Sam replied, and my ears perked up at that little endearment. I jerked my head up and away, and raised my eye brows, "Bells?"

Sam smiled down at me sheepishly, "I…uh, I kind of have been holding on to that nick name for a while, but I won't call you that if you don't like—"

I pressed my finger to his lips, shushing him, quieting his nervous rambles, "Relax, Sam, I like it. It's cute."

Sam smiled against my finger, and I pulled it away letting it fall back to where it was before—hugging his waist. Sam leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to my lips as if in thanks before pulling away slightly to rest his forehead against mine.

With his lips millimeters away from mine, I whispered against them, "Does that mean I get to call you 'Sammy'?"

"No." Sam grumbled out, embarrassment clear in his reasoning.

"Why not?"

"Just don't."

I was laughing at the screwed up expression on his face, and I quickly assured him, "Don't worry, Sam, I am not into weird pet names. We can just stick to the classics, with your mild variation."

Sam released a relieved breath, before hugging me to him tightly. This left me at eye level, with my feet dangling, due to his height. I wrapped my arms around his neck, resting my head in the crook of it.

"You're so little." Sam whispered in awe, as he probably saw that my feet were dangling in this position.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Nu-uh."

"Uh-huh."

"I am not, and you know it. Everyone is small compared to you…you're frickin huge."

Sam laughed, letting me go slowly, allowing my feet to find the ground smoothly again. I smiled up at him, laying a hand on his cheek, feeling an emotion swell up inside me, too big, too great, and ultimately new. It seemed to make my heart feel as though it was ready to burst, and my smile grew bigger.

Sam looked down at me quizzically, confused, I assume. But I just shook my head, before murmuring, "Good morning, Sam."

"Morning, Bells."

Still looking at him fondly, I stood on the tip of my toes, placing a kiss on the nearest possible place, that being his lips—he had ducked his head down. My eyes closed slowly, and after another sweet kiss, I pulled back and returned my feet to their normal position.

I slowly left his arms, instant missing the warmth before I said, "See you in a bit. Laters, _Sammy_."

Sam's eyes narrowed before he growled out, "Never again."

I just laughed, and slowly made my way up the rest of the walkway, climbing my porch steps quickly before throwing a glance over my shoulder, only to see Sam, with a small smile for me as he called out, "Later, Bells."

I blushed at his little nick name, secretly loving it, as I opened the door, and stumbled into my home. But somehow, it didn't feel like home, not really, my heart was with my home, and my heart was in the care of a certain gentle giant.

__

I awoke, warm and sweaty, my hair sticking to my forehead, _how attractive_, I thought wryly. It was getting warmer, the temperature was heating up. I was lying on my bed, stomach down, and I was in nothing but my underwear and a tank, and I was still warm. I had somehow kicked off the covers in my sleep, and was bathing in the sun that was streaming from my window.

I vaguely remembered climbing the stairs to my bedroom and peeling off all my clothes, last night, with the exception of my tank and undies, and falling asleep as soon as I my head hit the pillow.

Who knew intense conversations, and hot make out sessions tired a girl out like that? I licked my dry lips at the thought of Sam's kisses, and moaned a little. He was a great kisser, the way his hands felt, the smooth, smoldering heat…

I blinked my eyes rapidly, trying to derail that thought. I shook my head, and rolled over onto my back. I stared at the ceiling for a bit, coming into alertness, before glancing at my clock. It proclaimed _11:50_, and my eyes widened.

_Shit_, I thought. We were all meeting around noon, which really meant that Sam was going to be at my house at noon, and we were going to walk over together. I rolled my eyes at myself, and wondered if I was actually right in thinking so. Regardless I launched my self out of the bed, tripping over the tangled mass of covers, with a harsh, "Fuck!"

I landed with a thump, and I winced, I ate wood, hard. I laughed inwardly at the innuendo, and then picked myself up off the hard wood floor. I scrambled over to my dresser, ripping the first drawer open. It screeched in protest to my brutality, and I paid it no mind, leafing through my bras and underwear for my bathing suit.

I felt the stretchy material and pulled out the black bikini, before quickly stripping and putting it on, after struggling with it for a moment, of course. I then threw some shorts on, and a red tank, just as there was a knock on the door.

Both my parents were at work so I shouted, knowing it was Sam, "It's open!"

The door opened and closed, and sure enough I heard Sam's deep baritone call out, "Hello?"

"I'm upstairs, I'll be down in a sec!"

I rushed around my room, grabbing my brush from the night stand table located next to my bed, and ran it threw my hair as I searched for my flip flops. I couldn't locate them, and just decided that I would have to go with my Converse.

I snatched them from where they were lying at the door frame, and I quickly jogged out of my room and down the stairs. I walked through the hallway that leads to my kitchen—putting my shoes on at the same time, which probably wasn't the smartest idea.

So, after to elbow bangs, and one curse, I made it to the kitchen to find Sam shaking with his laughter in attempted silence as he stood in front of the toaster, waiting on what I assumed to be a pop tart—judging by my nose.

Rolling my eyes, I crossed the kitchen, headed for the fridge, opening it and pulling out the chocolate milk. I gave a girly shriek when Sam's arms encircled my waist unexpectedly from behind.

Sam laughed and with one hand holding the carton of chocolate milk, I turned in his hold to face him. Sam was smiling brightly, "Afternoon, babe."

"Yes, good afternoon, Sam." I replied, smiling as well. I never got used to the bubble of excitement and pure happiness that started out in my belly and made its way into my heart when I saw him.

Sam ducked his head down, closing his eyes as he placed his lips against my own, and I did the same, moaning against his hot lips, and kissing him back. Sam smirked against my lips before placing another little kiss against my now tingly lips. He pulled away after that, releasing me to grab a glass and to fill it with my preferred chocolate milk.

The pop tart was waiting for me on a napkin on the counter, and I felt my heart swell at how thoughtful Sam was. I took a bite after cooling it off by blowing on it, and then taking a sip of my milk.

"Eat up, we have to go, they guys are already there." Sam encouraged, watching me finish my meal in a couple of large bites.

I took a large swig of my chocolaty milk, washing down the pop-tart. Sam nodded in approval, and took my glass from me to place in the dish washer. I watched in silence, and began to walk towards the front door, Sam following me.

We left the house, and entered a slow loping step that had Sam and I swinging our joined hands.

"Did you sleep well?" Sam asked, glancing at me as we crossed the road to get to our destination.

"Yeah I did, you?"

"Didn't really get much sleep, I had to call a meeting." Sam replied, before stopping mid step, causing my own to falter.

I frowned, and before I could ask my two questions of one, why did he stop, and two, why did he call a meeting, he said, "No offense but you are a slow walker, and this would go much faster with you on my back."

"Hey!" I objected, but wasn't opposed to the idea of not having to walk all the way up to the cliff. Before I could utter another word Sam just swooped me up and onto his back. I yelped in surprise, and wrapped my legs around his waist, and loosely locked my arms around his neck.

We set off, and with my chin resting on the spot between the base of his neck and broad shoulder, I asked, "Why did you have to call a meeting, and who with?"

"Well you know that vampire attack?" Sam asked, and I nodded.

"Okay, I am going to have to do a little history lesson before I tell you, alright?" In response, I immediately drew up a fantasy of Sam in low slung dress pants, a white dress shirt—with the cuffs rolled up to his elbows—with a loose tie, and some sexy frames. I think I was drooling a bit. I cleared my brain of that little dream and simply nodded again, waiting for my lesson.

"A long time ago, when Ephraim Black was the Chief, he created a treaty with a coven of vampires, the Cullens. Now this treaty basically states that the Cullens are not allowed to hunt on our land, that being La Push, they are not allowed to turn anyone into their kind, and they cannot even be on our land.

"So you can imagine my suspicion when not one but _two_ victims of a vampire attack occurred on our land, but more importantly they were both one of ours. I called a meeting the first time it happened, and spoke with the Coven's leader, and they disputed it, saying that there were some nomadic vampires passing through their side, Forks. I let it go—I didn't smell them on the victim. I didn't smell any of them on this past victim either, but with some vampires next door, I had to call another meeting."

"And?" I prompted; I wanted to know what was going on. There were vampires next door, in the bum fuck town, Forks?! I think this little tidbit warranted further questioning.

"I got the same answers as last time. I trust the leader's word, but I don't know. All I can do is have some of the guys patrol the boarder, and try and catch a trail of the vampire, or vampires responsible." Sam supplied, quenching my queries.

I nodded, amazed at how calm Sam was being about this. Then again, he was Alpha, and he needed to be like this, calm and collected, practical, and ready for anything. I laid my head down against his back, and enjoyed his warmth.

After a couple of more moments and one big ass climbed hill, I could here the guys' voices. They were yelling and teasing, goofing off. I smiled, and whispered in a small voice, "Is Jake going to be here?"

Sam stiffened, and released my legs that he had been holding up with his big hands. I slithered down onto the forest floor, and noted that we were hidden by the forest—the opening was just up ahead. Sam turned to face me, and drew me to him by winding his arms around my waist.

"I'm sorry, Bells, he isn't going to be here." Sam said, laying a kiss on my forehead. I nodded and rested against him.

"I'm sorry, Sam." I murmured.

"What for?"

"For messing up the Pack. If I wasn't here, Jake would surely be. I know he probably wanted to, but didn't because of me." I said as I wrapped my arms around his waist.

"Bells, I would rather have you here that Jake's grumpy ass, alright?"

I chuckled, and nodded and we both released each other, or well I released Sam, and he proceeded to tuck me into his side.

"Do you ever think he'll for give me?" I asked.

"He will. I know it. He's just hurt, confused, angry and really upset right now. Give him a little time, Bells." Sam soothed, trying to ease my worries.

"I don't want to give him a little time." I huffed impatiently.

"Patience is a virtue." Sam smirked.

"I don't care what patience is."

Sam just laughed, and we entered the small area where all the guys were. At our entrance they all looked in our direction, and Quil smiled brightly, calling, "Bella!"

I laughed at him, and mocked in imitation of his voice, "Quil!"

Both Quil and I chuckled and he loped over, pulling me into a one armed hug that took me out off Sam's arms and into Quil's. I looked back at Sam, who was giving a death glare to Quil, and I just rolled my eyes.

I stepped out of his hug, trying to ease Sam and his temper a bit. "So, how have you been, Quil?"

"Same old, same old. How about you, I haven't seen you in forever!"

"It's been a day or two, Quil."

"Felt like forever!" Quil said dramatically, wiping at a fake tear.

"You're such a drama queen!"

"Am not!"

"Yes you are, and you know it, you big goof!"

"I resent those comments!"

"Resent them all you want, that doesn't make them less true."

"Yeah well if I am a goofy drama queen, what does that make you?"

"Perfect, of course."

Quil snorted, and said sarcastically, "Yeah, right."

We both stared each other down for a moment before we both burst into loud guffaws. I settled down, and saw Paul rolling his eyes at our antics. I stuck my tongue out at me, and he raised hi eye brows before sticking his own out at me.

Embry just shook his head and muttered, "So weird."

"You know you love it!" I said in a sing-song voice.

Sam just chuckled, and Jared looked confused, obviously not used to our antics as a group, poor guy. I chuckled and danced over to Sam, who tucked my back into his side, planting a kiss on my head.

All the guys looked away, making equally disturbed faces. Sam and I just rolled our eyes, and me being me, got on my tip toes and pulled Sam down to me by the collar of his white shirt.

He smirked, getting my idea before joining his lips to mine. We entered into a theatrical, over done hot make-out session. Even though I knew that guys were watching, and we were just doing it to bother them, I still enjoyed the heat of Sam's lips against mine, the soft pad of his tongue playing with my own.

We pulled away grinning, and all the guys were making fake gagging noises. I rolled my eyes and said, "Are we going to go cliff diving or not, bitches?"

Paul laughed and shook his head before backing up and flinging himself off the cliff. Fear surged up inside, but then I realized how dumb it was, he was a werewolf for Christ's sake. Embry followed, disappearing with a whoop. Quil did a nice dive, his form nearly perfect. Jared echoed the other guys' movements, landing a perfect dive.

That left Sam and I alone, and I felt a little flutter of excitement at the thought seeing his body. Mmm, a shirtless Sam. But then I realized that I would be exposing a lot of skin too. I got a little panicky at that thought, what if he didn't like what he saw? Sure I had a c-cup, but I mean, still. I was short and curvy, not lean and long legged.

Shrugging it off I stepped away from Sam and wordlessly took off my shorts and tank. I turned back around after kicking off my converse. He was shirtless, in a pair of red trunks, and I was staring.

Oh my…he had a very nice body. His skin looked even better in the sun, the bronze looking soft to the touch, and invitingly smooth. His washboard abs made me drool, and want to count the contours with my tongue, but I resisted. I was unable to stop the moan that came out at the sight of that delicious 'V'.

I met Sam's smug eyes, and he smirked, "Like what you see?"

I nodded, and felt inadequate next to him. He was trimmed, toned, and sexy as hell, and I was well…yeah. He walked over, and held onto my hips, tugging me closer. I gave a small whimper; the feeling of his bare, hot, calloused hands against my bare skin was too much. Sam just groaned, and said, "Fuck, you're gorgeous, baby."

I think I got even more excited when he swore, my lower abdomen jumping, and fluttering to life. I just smirked at him, and rubbed his toned forearms. He released my hips, and grabbed my hand, walking us over to the cliff.

It jutted out a few feet before us, and he looked at me, excitement dancing in his eyes, "You ready?"

I smiled, and replied, "Yup."

I was ready, so with our hands clasped, Sam and I jumped off the cliff, blindly and faithfully, ready for whatever the waters held for us.

__

We had all migrated down to the beach by now, sharing towels with the people who were smart enough to bring one. The guys were in the water now, playing and messing around, and I was left alone with Embry, sitting on the warm sand.

Sam, after our first jump together, had me do it with him a couple more times, before I settled on just watching from the shore with whoever was present with my heart in my throat, lodged there with the help of my worry.

Sam, Paul, Quil and Jared were in the water now, just being guys. I was currently with Embry, enjoying his silent company. I was thinking deeply about Sam, and what not, so it was good Embry was not much of a talker.

With a frown puckering my forehead, Embry asked, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," I sigh. "It's just overwhelming, you know?"

Embry nods, thinking before her replies, "You do realize you've made, or you make him very happy though, right? I know it's a tough thing to deal with but…" He trails off, letting the truth hang between us.

"I know, but that's the thing. I am so scared of hurting him, of destroying him. I feel like I hold his whole world in my hands, and it's so fragile. I just don't want to break it, to ruin things like I did with Jake." I said, glancing over at Embry who was nodding.

Embry frowned before advising, "First off, do not compare your relationship with Sam, to your friendship with Jake. Jake is an ass, to put it simply. He is selfish, and fails to see that it's not your job to make him happy to take care of him. Maybe you did that when you were younger, but not any more. You can't continue to coddle and enable him. Jake will come back to reality, and apologize, okay? So don't torture yourself over it. You're not responsible for his happiness.

"As for Sam… Just be gentle. I haven't seen him like this ever, so care free, happy…"

"So nineteen?" I offer, smiling.

"Exactly!" Embry exclaims. "I am not telling you to coddle Sam either, but be honest with him and just go with the flow. This relationship isn't all on you, Bella, it's a partnership. Plus, if it makes you feel better, Sam really does like you in your entirety, bitchiness included. He wants you to be happy, and you want him to be happy, and guess what? You both make each other happy. So, take it one step at a time. I know you act differently with him Bella, but still maintain your self and personality, and it's working."

I looked at him, and said, "You know, I really missed you."

Embry laughed, and jokingly said, "C'mon, don't go soft on me, save that for Sam."

I laughed with him and looked back out at the water, only to see Sam emerging. Damn, was that a sight—he was wet, dripping, simmering in the light a bit, little water droplets licking at his skin like I was dying to.

"Down, girl." Embry said, waggling his eyebrows.

"Shut up."

Sam was closer now, standing at my feet. I smiled up at him, and with a devilish glint to his eyes Sam bent down and grabbed my hand, pulling me up and into his arms. I let out a giggle, and I know his intent. Pressed up against him I know I am absorbing all the water, and getting wet. _I already was_, I thought wryly. I giggle inwardly, but Sam breathes in, and it hitched somewhere along the way.

Sam lets out a little growl, before whispering huskily, "Let' get out of here."

Embry guffaws and I blush mildly. Before I even know what his going on, Sam has me over his shoulder, fire fighter style. He slaps my ass, ad I yelp, screeching, "Samuel Uley, you put me down this instant!"

Sam just laughs and keeps on walking. I scowl, and slap his lower back, and demand, "Where the hell are we going?"

Sam just chuckles and says, "It's a surprise."

I know it's not a surprise. He's just doing this to annoy me. So I fold my arms, propping them up against his back, and close my eyes, this better be good.

Finally after a couple of minutes, and a few deliberate ass gropes—which just dampened my panties further, and every time Sam took a breath he would shudder, but I let it go, but began wriggling when I saw the stones of his drive way.

"I can walk, you know!"

Sam let me go, and with a little bit of vertigo I was balanced again, walking on my own two feet. I scowled at Sam, and then said, "Why didn't you just let me walk?"

Sam took another deep breath and growled out, "I can _smell_ you, Bells, and I didn't think you would appreciate me saying that in front of the guys and attacking you with an audience."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

I looked away, embarrassed. Sam walked forward and cupped my cheek, forcing me to look at him, and in a husky voice he spoke, "Hey, don't be embarrassed. I think it's sexy. It's a turn on that you're _wet_ for me."

I moaned, and whimpered when I felt the hard bark of a tree trunk up against my back. I gasped, and Sam covered my lips with his. I melted against him, allowing his hungry mouth to devour my own. His lips were raw and hot against my own, domineering and commanding.

I groaned, and he pulled away panting, only to return to my lips moments later after gathering some oxygen. We made out again, all hot and heavy, his hands cupping my ass—I think Sam is an ass-man—and mine gripping his hair tightly.

We slowed down, the passion dissipating. Sighing I pulled away, and pressed my head back against the tree trunk. I was breathing hard, my heart like a tattoo against my ribs. Sam had his head resting against my collarbone, panting just as hard as I was.

"Whoa." I breathed.

"Yeah." Sam sighed.

In a shaky voice I said, "I think we need to just…oh…" I trailed off when I felt Sam's hot lips against my collarbone, nipping and soothing the burn with his gentle lips and skilled tongue.

"Sam," I moaned. "We need to slow down a minute…I like this; I really do, just not with tree bark biting my back."

"Oh! Sorry, Bells." Sam said, slowly letting me down.

I smirked, and just entwined my fingers with his, leading him up the drive way. The sexual tension was swimming between us, tense and ready for the next round. I sucked in a deep breath, trying relax, to soothe my stirring abdomen, ease the pulsing ache.

As much as I would love to have a go at it with Sam, I wasn't 'ready'. So breathing deeply, I repeated this mantra until we got to his house; Shelby parked out front to welcome us home.

Shelby wasn't really looking too good. Mud and dirt coated her body, more heavily around her tires. I frowned, and said, "What happened to Shelby?"

"It's La Push." Sam offered as an explanation.

"She needs to be cleaned up."

"Yeah?"

"Yup."

"Well let's do that then," Sam said, and continued with, "I'll get the sponges and shit, you get the hose out."

I smiled, and conjured up all sorts of images of Sam leaned over the hood of Shelby, shirtless of course, water dripping from his toned muscles, soap sliding down, down, down, following that carved 'V'…I blinked into alertness, and saw that Sam was smirking.

I rolled my eyes and said, "Right, water."

I turned on my heel and walked parallel to the side of Sam's house. I found the hose, bright yellow, with a black nozzle that had a round face for all sorts of features. I bent down and turned the water on, before dragging the hose from its resting spot to where Shelby waited.

Sam wasn't out yet so I decided to just wash Shelby in my bikini top and shorts. It's be more convenient, plus it was really hot out, with the sun glaring at me from its perch in the sky. I also pulled my hair up into a messy bun, and turned to face the door only to see Sam there, staring at my boobs.

"Like what you see?" I said, snarky and smug.

"Yes. A lot." Sam said, not taking his eyes off of the twins.

I rolled my eyes. "If you're just going to stare at my boobs I am putting my tank top back on."

Sam immediately flicked his eyes back up to mine. I laughed and watched as he walked over to where I was with his soapy bucket and a big yellow sponge.

"Shall we?" I asked as I poised the hose nozzle in the direction of Shelby. I squeezed on the pump of the handle and water came out in a spray. I slowly began to hose Shelby down, making sure I got her wet. I giggled at the wording, and looked back to see Sam washing the hood.

I stopped and stared momentarily, tilting my head to the side. I smiled, enjoying watching his muscles flex and contract before relaxing. I quickly proceeded on with my job before I got caught.

It didn't happen until I was rinsing off the hood. I was innocently washing down the hood when Sam brushed up against me, his hard on very prominent, and I shuddered, and Sam moved back with an, 'Oops'.

I didn't buy it.

We continued washing Shelby teasing each other in ways similar to his first challenge. I would deliberately bend over, showing a great amount of cleavage, before turning away quickly and proceeding to wash Shelby. Sam would do things like that as well, flexing his muscles on purpose—way too much and too often, not that I was complaining—or brush up against me on purpose, or subtly grind into me, earning a moaned warning.

We were almost done, and I just had to rinse off the roof of Shelby's cab. I was on the tip of my toes; stretching to get the hose over the top when I felt Sam grasp my hips, press his boner against my ass, grinding into me when he asked, "You need some help?"

"No…" I moaned, pressing my ass back, causing him to groan. I smirked before I turned around abruptly and hosed Sam down with the frigid water.

Sam sputtered, and I giggled, "Oops!"

Sam wiped at his eyes before he looked at me and with an evil grin, he said, "You are going to regret that."

"I am, am I?"

"Yes, yes you will."

I laughed and slipped out from between him and the car, the hose still in hand and ready to be fired at Sam. Sam eyed me carefully, and a shiver ran up my spine—predator and prey. I watched as he slowly picked up the bucket at his feet.

"Don't you dare, Sam." I ordered, already knowing what was about to happen. If I ran quickly enough I could make it up the steps and into the house.

So I took another step back before I abruptly—quicker than he had anticipated—made a run for it. I was quick and jumped up the steps and flew into the house just as I heard the splash of water hitting the pavement and thudding foot steps.

Sam bounded up the steps—I could hear him—and into the door. I knew he was fast, and I was halfway into the living room when Sam tackled me to the floor. I landed underneath him, pinned by his weight.

I was shaking with laughter, and was letting out little wheezes and snorts.

"You think this is funny?" Sam asked with raised eyebrows.

I shook my head, still shaking, wailing, "Oh, my stomach! It hurts!"

Sam narrowed his eyes at me and took my wrists and pinned them above me, and that was when I began to slowly come into somberness. It wasn't until I had stopped giggling that I noticed what kind of position we were in.

Sam was nestled between my legs, his hard on perfectly placed against my now throbbing centre, and his bare chest was just brushing my own. Even though Sam was warm, I shivered and felt my nipples contract and harden.

We were paused, neither of us moving, and then the need for some friction became to much, and I shifted my hips, moaning as I did so—sounding like a porn star. But Sam seemed to like it, and his lips crashed down upon mine, our teeth gnashing together. It was a sloppy kiss, all tongue and spit but I couldn't give a damn.

Sam had released my hands by now, and one hand gripped my hip, allowing him to grind into me, causing me to rip my lips away from his in a throaty moan. My lower abdomen throbbed more intensely, almost painfully. The need was rising up in me like no other, and I began to work with him rotating my hips in a way that created the most delicious type of friction.

Sam growled, and his other hand moved from my waist up to the underside of my right breast. I knew I was hesitating so I took one of my hands off their perch on his neck and used it to move his hand up to cup my breast.

Sam's eyes flicked up to mine and a fire burned there, burning me. I just nodded, giving him the permission I knew he needed, and arched my back when he squeezed my breast gently. My nipples hardened even further, straining against the fabric of my damp bikini top. I whimpered when his thumb gently brushed over my peak, and I bit my lip, trying to hold the cry in.

His grinding got harder, fiercer, rougher, and I did so as well, matching each thrust and swipe. I nearly died when he roughly flicked the sensitive bud of my breast, and cried his name out loudly.

I felt like I was on fire, the slow sizzle of my abdomen now at its boiling point, on the verge of something, and I needed to know what that something was.

"Almost there, c'mon, Sam, please…" I whimpered, my voice sounding pathetic and desperate.

Sam growled, before taking my sensitive nipple between his thumb and index finger, rolling and pinching it. And with one final, sharp thrust, I was gone. That certain something exploded within me, causing me to clench my eyes shut and curl my toes inside my converse. I heard Sam growl gutturally, following me.

I came back down from my high, and Sam rolled off of me. That was…wow. My first orgasm and it was achieved through some intense dry humping on the floor of my boyfriend's house. I giggled inwardly at the thought, and rolled over onto my side, resting my tired body against Sam's.

Sam was painting, catching his breath. "Sorry, I usually last longer…"

I laughed and Sam looked down at me in fear, I shook my head and pushed up on my elbow facing his side. I brought my other hand to cup his cheek, and I caressed it, before lowering my head to whisper against his lips, "Sam, that was amazing. I don't care if it lasted two seconds or two hours…I wouldn't know anyways…it was that good."

Sam smiled broadly, and returned the kiss. We both pulled away and I settled back down onto the floor—too tired to bother with movement. Sam tucked me into his side and laid a kiss on my sweaty forehead.

After our breathing returned to normal, and all I could hear was the thud of Sam's heart I smiled, and knew I was right. My home was with Sam, with my heart. I glanced up at him, seeing his closed lids I only hoped that this would be as easy as Embry made it out to be. I swallowed back my fears, and settled further into my place at home.

**A/N: That was a long one. Wow. It was both angst-y and fluffy, with a hint of citrus. I hope you all liked it, I thought it was good. **

**Regardless, apologies for the long wait, and please review. **

**Playlist:**

**Someday—Anya Marina**

**After Party at Jimmy's—Anya Marina**

**Space Monkey—Anya Marina**

**Phenomena—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Arizona—Kings of Leon**

**Beast of Burden—The Rolling Stones**

**Black Dog—Led Zeppelin **

**Like I said, I hope you liked it! Please review!  
**

**-Beavoicenotanecho**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Again, sorry for the slow update. It has been crazy busy for me and I couldn't find a moment to spare. So, finally I bring this drama loaded, angst filled chapter. I hope you enjoy, but I do warn you, shit goes down in this chapter.**

**Thanks to all who reviewed, or added this, or me, to their Favorites/ Alerts. Thanks for everything my dear readers, I owe it all to you guys. **

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, settings, ideas etc. it is all S.M's. No copyright infringement intended. **

**Boarders**

**Chapter Eighteen: Walking on broken glass**

I didn't know where I was, all I knew was the steady terrain under the bare pads of my feet as I ran, faster and faster. I was in a forest of some sort, the tall trunks, lean and stiff as they loomed over my head, disappearing into the frightening canopy of mist that hung over them like a thick ominous blanket.

My breath was coming out in pants, misting in the air before me and then disappearing. My pace quickened, and I didn't know if I was running away or towards, but a sense of panic and urgency clogged my heart, making me run faster, my strides longer, tears were streaming down my face, and in a broken sob I called out, "Sam!"

I kept running, calling out his name, and then a gnarled root tripped me and I was sent tumbling down onto the forest floor, and I rolled over onto my back, shrieking in fright when I saw Jacob before me, with a malicious glint to his eye.

I scrambled to my feet, and gasped, "Oh, thank god! You're here, have you seen him?"

Jacob just arranged a small smile on his face, tilting his head to the side, and said, "He is here. But have _you_ seen him? Did you scare him away, Bella?"

"I don't know! That's why you must tell me where he is!" I begged and pleaded with this cruel man, with Jacob before me.

"Fair enough. See for yourself." Jacob said, a horrid smile on his face as he turned, revealing a sickening scene. Lying on the floor was Sam, a crumpled figure with pale skin, and a limp body that looked as though it was flung to the floor by an angry child.

I rushed forward, collapsing on the cold ground that surrounded Sam, and heaved a sob of relief. I slowly turned him over, and my relief was washed away by horror, and absolute despair.

"No!" I wailed. "Sam!"

Sam lay on his back now, his lifeless eyes glassy, and pale, staring up at the mist over our heads, and I couldn't breathe, my heart in my throat, suffocating me, choking me.

"Sam!" I shook his chest.

"It doesn't matter what you do Bella, you've done it." Jacob chuckled, looking down at me with a twisted pity.

"But…" I blubbered, and looked up at Jacob who grinned down, "It's too bad. But you ruined it."

"No!" I yelled with desperation, and sobbed, "_Sam_!"

_

I woke up, Sam's name on my lips, and tears on my cheeks. I took a deep breath, trying to stop my heart from beating out of my chest. _It_ w_a_s _just_ _a_ _dream_, I told myself. Even though it was _just_ a dream, it felt too real. The emotions behind it were real, the fears I harbored, the thoughts that plagued me were the very roots of it. But what was more frightening was Jake's presence. The fact that he was there, that he was the messenger, that he was telling me that I had ruined it, ruined Sam.

I shuddered, and pulled the covers around me more tightly. I was at home in my own bed, safe and sound, but not from myself. My subconscious was playing a cruel game, and from what I could gather the message was pretty clear.

I needed to figure shit out with Jake, and soon.

Though my dream was over done, and if it were a horror movie I would have been chortling with laughter. But I wasn't. My dream was a message from my subconscious, and like I said, it was making itself extremely clear.

I knew I had to figure all this out with Jake. I had to. Jake, though I hate to admit it, I had always been closer to me than the others. Maybe we just bonded…but I knew a new type of relationship formed when his mother passed away and that one night last summer. It brought us closer together, and I had come to depend on him just as much as he did me.

Sure, I didn't do it openly, but it was clear. I had continually chosen Jake over Sam for a reason, up until I found out about being an imprint and what not. But Jake and I were odd that way, we didn't tell each other our deepest darkest secrets, you know? It was the companionship. It was being together, all the time. It was the fact that I knew Jake like I knew myself, and the same applied to him with me.

It probably wasn't healthy. It's probably the reason why all our shit is fucked up right now. If we hadn't formed these notions about each other, we wouldn't have failed to meet said expectations. But still, I couldn't imagine a different friendship with Jake, but I knew that if I wasn't careful, if I waited too long, that all I would have with Jake would be imaginary.

I scowled at the thought, roughly punching my pillow, rearranging it to properly support me. I tried to relax, and took in a deep breath, trying to keep all the emotions down, knowing that they would reach Sam, and I didn't want to deal with both Sam and my emotions. So, I lay in my bed, and allowed thoughts to run through my head.

As I lay there, blinking up at my cream coloured ceiling, I wanted desperately to believe every word that Embry had counseled me with the other day. I wanted to agree with him, to shrug it off with ease like he told me too, but I couldn't. I couldn't just wait around, and just simply take the route of: it's all Jake's fault, because if we were being honest, I knew it wasn't all on Jake.

I knew I was at fault too. I knew it wasn't right of me just to end things like that, to just walk away, and say, 'Sorry, I am done here'. As true as it is, I knew that I did it for me. I made a selfish decision, to protect myself, to take care of myself instead of Jake. I could only imagine what it felt like to be dumped by your friend of fifteen years, over the phone, of all things.

God, I was such a bitch.

Call it a mistake, call it cold, heartless, but I had needed to do it. I had been being yanked between two worlds for the better part of two weeks, and well, I was tired, both emotionally and physically. So, I did what was best for me, and took my self out of the equation, and fuck Jake if he didn't see that my years of sacrifice and care giving warranted a slip up, not even.

I was getting riled, and I needed to sort this out with Jake. I needed to. Or I was going to seriously consider just screaming at him till he forgave me. I knew that I needed to let him come to me. He needed to want to talk; he needed to come to me on his own terms. That and I was a pussy and was scared of getting the piss taken out of me again.

As much as the thought of having to face Jake again scared me, I knew it had to be done. I couldn't sit on my ass and wait, because, well, I would be waiting a while. Jake was a stubborn fucker, just like me, whose pride was always placed above all else.

Rolling my eyes, I glanced at the clock, and saw that it was seven thirty. I glanced back at my ceiling, and hoped to have it make the decision for me. It didn't, stupid ceiling. I didn't know what to do.

I had two options: grow a pair and talk to Jake, or stand around with my thumb up my ass and wait on Jake.

I knew that going to Jake was probably the smarter choice, in fact the better choice, but I was hit with the same thought; it was always me doing this type of shit. It was always me who went to Jake, made sure Jake was okay, if we fought I was the first to apologize, I was the first one to make a move, why couldn't he do the same for once?

I knew that was highly improbable. It was my own fault too. I had enabled and conditioned Jake to think that I was always going to be the one to walk in and play mechanic and fix everything. Part of me wanted to use this situation as a chance to make an example, you know? I wanted Jake to finally know what it was like to be the one to have to rack your brains, and try to come up with a suitable solution. But I also knew that this situation wasn't the most appropriate one to make an example out of. I mean, I had been the one to actually fuck up, right?

So, therefore, or at least theoretically, I actually should be the one to go over and fix everything. I hated when I was right, okay that's a lie, I love it when I am right, with the exception for situations like this one.

But what if I was wrong? What if it was best to just do as Embry said? Was Embry right in telling me to let Jake cool off, to let him come to me? I didn't think he was. I mean, he was to some extent, but I valued Jake and his friendship too much to let it dwindle to a point where we couldn't possible retrieve what we once had.

That was one of my biggest fears regarding my problem here. What if I waited too long? What if the gap between Jake and I got too big, too much? I wouldn't be able to forgive myself for that, I was a coward with Sam, and we were still grappling with those assortment of issues, I knew not to be a coward with Jake.

Christ on a cracker this was making my head hurt.

Without even thinking about it I called Sam, I knew he would be able to help me out…or at least listen to me ramble and vent about all of this. I held my phone to my ear as I sat up in bed, leaning against the headboard as I searched around for my hidden pack of smokes.

The window was already open, and I hopped out of bed, and sat on the edge of my desk that was parked near the window. I lit it up, and listened to the sound of the phone ringing.

"Hello?" Sam greeted.

"Hey…it's Bella." I greeted, blowing the smoke out the window.

"I know it's you." Sam replied, and I could almost hear him roll his eyes.

"How did you know, though? I could have been some crazy stalker…"

"Bella, it's called Caller ID."

"Yeah well, the crazy stalker could have stolen my phone, and used it to call you…the perfect plan, you see. You think it's me but in reality, it's an insane person, who likes to watch you and all your weird eating habits."

"My weird eating habits?"

"Yeah…you eat enough to choke horse."

"Let's not exaggerate."

"Sam, it's okay, the first step is admitting you have a problem."

"I don't have a problem, Bells, you do though."

"Oh yeah, and what is _my_ problem?"

"Why else would you be calling me?"

"Hey! Can't a girlfriend just call her boyfriend?"

"Bells…" Sam trailed off.

"Okay, okay…man, it's insane how you do that." I said, taking another drag on my cigarette before blowing its smoke out the window.

"Insane how I do what?"

"You know…how you just _know_."

Sam laughed, "It's one of my many talents."

"Among other things…" I mumbled, thinking back to our little romp on the carpet. Mm.

"What was that?" Sam asked, and I could tell from his smug tone that he was smirking.

"Nothing."

"Sure it was, but seriously, what's up?"

Sighing, I flicked the ashes off the ledge of the window. "Do you think it's a smart idea if I were to try and talk to Jake again?"

Sam sighed, and I visualized him running a hand through his hair. "You could try Bells, but I mean, you just run the risk of a repeat performance of last time. Is that something you really want to risk?"

I thought about it for a little bit before replying, "You're right, I do run that risk, but by keeping my silence and just waiting on him, I risk losing him."

"Bella, you're getting ahead of yourself here. I mean, it's been what, like three days? It's not life or death at this point."

"I know I am, but I can't help it. Jake and I have always been really close, and we have never fought like this. Well, sure we have, but we never had such a long separation after." I said, and I could feel some frustration rising.

Didn't Sam get it? I mean, it was Jacob. My best friend of fifteen years, how can I just chalk that up to, he'll come around, let's just wait it out? But apparently Sam didn't get it, and part of me was just a little upset. I knew it was immature, I know he is entitled to his opinion and shit, but this was just so god damn frustrating.

I knew why Sam didn't get it. We didn't know each other. I mean sure, I had learned the basics about Sam, but he hadn't learned them about me. He had little snippets, and didn't really know what my history was.

Before I could dig into my thoughts some more, Sam spoke.

"Listen Bells, I get it. I understand that you're pissed at him for dragging you through this, and I understand that you want to settle this, but you can't force it. I know this isn't what you want to hear, but this is what I am telling you. You don't have to take my advice and apply it, I am just giving it to you, which is why you called, I assume."

I clenched my jaw, and flicked the cigarette out the window. Sam was doing just that, he was giving me advice. I didn't have to do anything with it but consult, so then why was I so riled and unsettled by it?

I was already angry to begin with, so it probably didn't help that Sam made for the perfect punching bag. Sam didn't know much, and I knew he was just going on logics. But still, I couldn't help but feel as though it was a mistake to call him. I should have called Paul or Quil, even Embry.

So with my anger simmering, I replied, "Thanks for listening Sam. I'll talk to you later."

"Ouch. Snippy."

I nearly growled at Sam, now was not the time to be cute. I clenched my fist, releasing a breath before saying, "Don't go there. Not right now."

Sam chuckled, and my anger flared. He wasn't taking me seriously, I knew why—I was being bratty, but at the same time I was holding all the snippy comments in that I really wanted to unload.

I growled a little, and Sam laughed, "Okay, okay, I get it. I know you didn't get the advice you wanted, but lighten up. I didn't mean to make you upset."

"I know you didn't. I just wish that this would get resolved sooner, rather than later."

"Well, you know your options, it's your call, Bells."

"I know, Sam…but I just can't help but wonder if this is it, you know? I am scared that I will let this go on for too long, and Jake and I will just drift…"

Sam let out a sigh before offering, "Sounds like you're far from being done with venting and I don't give good advice on an empty stomach, so…"

"You want to go to the diner?" I interrupted with a snort.

"You know me so well. How about we walk over there, I'll come over in thirty minutes?" Sam asked, and I felt myself smiling.

"Yeah, see you in a bit."

"Laters, Bells."

"Bye, Sam."

I hung up the phone, and I knew that I was going to have to talk to Sam about everything, about my past, about my friends, just me, really. It was going to be a Bella Crash Course. Hopefully it would go smoothly, with minimal interruptions. But somehow I knew this conversation wasn't going to be too short, if anything it was going to be a long one. However it needed to be had and I knew it would be worth it.

With that I grabbed my pack of cigarettes and tossed them back into their hiding spot before heading for the bathroom. I stopped in front of the mirror, and cocked my head to the side, staring at the girl before me.

She was different, different from the girl before. I liked her, but the real question was, would Jake? Would Jake be able to cope with the changes that I underwent, learn to accept me for me? I knew he could, Jake was able, but was he willing? I didn't know, and part of me didn't want to know, because truthfully, I really hadn't changed that much. If anything, my priorities had changed.

Sam had entered, slowly becoming a recognizable and vital piece to my universe, my life. That spot was always given to Jake. Sure I loved all my friends, but Jake was, just well, Jake. He had always held that position because of how close we were, and I was wondering if he was going to grapple with these conclusions as much as I was.

It wasn't as though Sam was the centre of my universe now, but things were changing. The scale was becoming un-even and I needed to find that precarious balance again. I still wanted Jake, and all my other friends to be in my life, and I didn't know what I would do if Jake wouldn't want to partake in this new life.

I shook my head, and tried to stop my thoughts from flitting around. It was useless—they were flying around in my head like it was a game of tennis, and I could feel a headache coming on.

I groaned and turned to the shower. I adjusted the knobs, setting them to a cooler temperature—it was still really hot here in La Push. I stepped into the water, shuddering as the cool water hit my warm skin. Thinking of warm skin I wondered how Sam managed in this weather. I mean, he had to be super hot now.

Pushing my foolish, errant thoughts away, I began to do my shower business. Minutes later I stepped out of the shower, and wrapped a towel around me. I walked out of the bathroom and headed for my bedroom.

Once inside I began to get dressed, throwing on a pair of shorts and a white short sleeved V-neck shirt. I just toweled dry my hair, not really in the mood to dry my hair. I exited my room, and was just about to slip my flip flops on there was an odd sound.

I frowned, and eyed my front door for a minute, knowing the sound was coming from outside my house. I waited for a moment, and I had one foot in my one of my flip flops when I heard the distinct sound of raised voices.

Shrugging my shoulders I gripped the door handle before pulling my door open. They say curiosity killed the cat, too bad I was a dog person, and had two dogs on my porch glowering at each other. Okay maybe one was glowering, the other was well, the other was Sam.

There on my porch was Sam _and_ Jacob. I stood there in the door way, and felt my eyes widen, and my heart shoot up from my feet to my throat, choking me. My eyes were only on Jake and how tall and well, bulky he was. But more so, I was focused on that hard edge his eyes held.

Where was my Jacob? The goofy one that swore like a sailor that warmed my heart and made me want to punch him all at once. I frowned, and then stupidly asked in a small voice, "Jake?"

Jake's head swiveled towards me, away from Sam, and onto me. When his eyes met mine something flashed there, but it was gone before I could identify it. For a moment we stayed there, locked in that staring contest.

Sam cleared his throat, and immediately my eyes went to him. He stood tall. Fuck, he was in his Alpha head space. I scowled inwardly, before throwing a small smile at him. He frowned at that, probably wondering why I wasn't acting like I normally did with him.

But Jake was here, and that seemed to change everything. Jake was like a relic of my past standing here, and it was then that I noticed he hadn't answered me. Well, I didn't really pose a question that needed answering but still.

"Jake?" I said more firmly, in that voice that subtly asked: what the fuck are you doing here.

The new, not my Jacob, sighed, "We need to talk."

I eyed him suspiciously, "Did he put you up to this?" My eyes flicking over to Sam who scowled at my implication. He was getting mad, shit.

"No, Bells, I didn't put him up to it. He was already here when I got here." Sam said, looking a little hurt that I would throw that accusation his way.

"_Bells_?" Jake scoffed, rolling his eyes as mine narrowed. Sam growled at Jake, and Jake looked like he was just about ready to forgo this.

"Listen," I snapped at Jake. "I know shit went down that we need to discuss, but do me a favor, leave right now if you're only here to rehash the same shit you said as well as bash the stuff you don't even know about. I don't need to hear it Jake."

Sam smirked smugly, and Jake ran a hand through his now shortly cropped hair, "Listen, I am hear to figure this out, really."

My heart softened at Jake's words and I flicked my eyes over to Sam—which Jacob didn't miss.

"What? Do you need his permission or something?" Jake snorted.

I clenched my jaw before reprimanding, "Hey! He's your Alpha, show some respect!"

Sam smiled at me, before glancing at Jake and explaining, "No, she doesn't need my permission, she had made plans with me, and it's okay, I'll leave you guy's to talk."

Sam was slowly turning away; ready to head back to Shelby who was parked in front of my house. I scowled, and looked at Jake before saying, "I'll be in a minute, okay? Put some Pop-Tarts on."

Jake walked into the house just as I vacated the doorway to say goodbye to Sam. I caught him at the end of the walk way, wrapping my hand around his. Sam turned and looked down at me with his eye brows raised.

"No good-bye kiss?" I ask with a pout.

"No hello kiss?" Sam returned.

I blush, "Yeah…sorry about that. I just didn't expect to see both you and Jake there. I'm sorry for acting weird, and for reprimanding him when that's your job."

Sam chuckled and said, "It's fine. But we can still get some food after, right?"

I laughed and said, "Maybe, but you have to kiss me first."

Sam groaned in mock irritation, "Do I really have to?"

"Yes." I state simply, giggling at our antics.

With that Sam leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. I sighed against them, and relaxed instantly. All the nervous butterflies in my stomach landed temporarily, and it was in this moment, with his gentle lips against mine, that I knew I was falling for Sam. I smiled a little, before returning the kiss earnestly.

He pulled away, with a serious look about him before saying as he cupped my cheeks, "Be careful with him. He's a young wolf; anger is close to the surface at all times. Tread carefully, and if anything happens, or there is sign of trouble, let me know. I am going to be close, alright?"

I nodded, and wrapped my hands around his wrists, before murmuring, "I will. I promise."

Sam nodded, laying a firm kiss on my forehead before releasing my head from his large palms. I stepped out of his arms and began to walk away. I was a foot away from him when he slapped my ass with a chuckle, and I yelped, continuing up the walkway with a backward glance.

I reached my own front door, my hands sweaty with nerves. I wiped them uselessly on my shorts before taking in a deep breath and saying to myself, _it's Jake, you'll be fine, this can and will work out and things will get better._

I nodded firmly, straightening my posture and clenching my jaw before walking in. I entered the kitchen to find Jake nibbling on a pop-tart, staring at the table as though it were an enigma.

I cleared my throat, and walked over to the counter before sitting down in the chair opposite Jake that also had the pop-tart sitting in front of it. I sat there, and waited for Jake to say something.

He didn't.

"Jake, you said we had to talk…so talk." I said firmly around a mouthful of pop-tart.

Jake glanced up at me and I raised my eye brows, daring him to settle further into his silence.

"Listen, I'm sorry for all the shit I said, you know about Sam having to do stuff…I was out of order, and I shouldn't have gone for the cheap shots." Jake rumbled out, and I nodded before replying, "I want to say that it's okay, but it's not, Jake, you really hurt me."

Jake clenched his jaw before countering, "What? And you didn't hurt me when you left me?"

My pop-tart turned to ash in my mouth, and I swallowed it before snapping back, "Well I'm sorry, but excuse me for thinking about myself for once instead of putting your interests first, okay?"

Jake growled, "Oh stop selling that shit, because I am not buying."

I glared at him, my mouth hanging open momentarily but I quickly snapped it shut. I licked my lips, wetting them, before turning away and setting my plate in the sink. The clatter echoed in the very silent kitchen, and I tried to swallow back my tears.

I sniffled quietly, licking my now salty lips before wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand.

"Bella?" Jake asked in a fearful voice.

My shoulders tensed and I turned around to face him. He saw my presumably wet cheeks and glassy eyes and swallowed with a nearly audible gulp.

I drew in a deep breath, "So me looking after you when your mother died was shit, huh? Or how about when I made sure that you didn't spend the night in the police station, you're right, that was shit too. So were the times I held you on the anniversary of your mother's death. Oh, how could I forget, Jake? It must have been really shitty when I gave you my virginity!"

Jake had paled now, and my face was dripping.

It had been a while ago. I had given it to him last summer. It was the anniversary of his mother's death, and fuck, he was a mess. It was the worst by far, and I didn't know what to do. He just kept saying that he wanted to feel loved, that he wanted to be loved. And I loved him that night. I loved him in the best way that I could. That night hadn't been for me, it had been for Jake. I didn't even orgasm. Jake did though, but the thing that did happen was that Jake got what he needed. I loved him that night. We haven't spoken of it since, but it was common knowledge shared between the two of us that that night wasn't a pity fuck; it was something much more than us. There really was no 'us'. Jake and I were friends, plainly platonic. But that night I gave him something, I gave him my love. We had been close since, with no sexual tension. We left that night as it was, a distant memory, long gone, but still with us.

I scrubbed at my face before yelling, "Don't you dare throw that back in my face, okay? I am sorry for leaving you Jake…I am so fucking sorry! But it was Sam. _Sam_, Jake. I…I made a stupid mistake, I didn't handle it well at all, and for that I am sorry. I know you didn't deserve it, but I don't deserve this abuse."

I was still crying, tears sliding hot and quick down my face. I gave him everything, _everything_, and this is what I get? I shook my head, trying to dislodge the lump that had swelled in the back of my throat.

"Bella…" Jake trailed off softly.

I met his gaze, "Get out."

Jake frowned at me, and I raised my voice, "Get the fuck out, Jake!"

My voice was thick with tears, but I was past caring.

A growl emanated from his chest, and I noticed he was beginning to shake. Fuck. Panic rose up; I didn't know what to do. What does one do when a teen wolf if about to phase in your home?

"Jake, calm down." I said in a shaky voice.

Jake's tremors got worse, and he was bent over now. Sweet baby Jesus he was going to phase. I backed up marginally, hitting the cupboards. I looked around wildly, searching for something, anything.

Jake was gone. I knew it. The phase had been initiated and he couldn't control himself. My only thought was to get out of here. I glanced around, and tried to ignore the animalistic sounds coming from the centre of my kitchen. There most favored exit was behind Jake—trembling form blocking the way—but there was also our backdoor that was closer, but difficult to open.

Sweat was forming on my brow, and a ball of nerves was lodged in my throat. I needed to make a decision, and make it quick.

My eyes flew to centre stage, to Jake when I heard his sharp keen. It was with that that I pushed away from my position and launched myself around Jake.

But I wasn't quick enough. I was just moving past Jake when he phased, and I felt a sharp unexpected pain. I kept moving though, I couldn't locate it; there was no time. I pushed on and left Jake, tail between his legs as I wrenched the front door open.

I stumbled out onto the porch, and looked around. Sam wasn't in sight, neither was Shelby. I frowned, and whimpered at the pain coming from my arm. I glanced down at my left arm. There was a large cut running along the side of my forearm. It was deep, probably requiring stitches, and blood was running quick.

"Oh shit." I moaned, not enthused. Jake the fucker, scratched me with his paw.

I looked around the porch; I needed to stop the bleeding. I saw the nice blanket that lay across the bench swing thing and grabbed it, wrapping it around my forearm. I kept it pressured the best as I could, and turned back to look inside my house, I needed to get to the phone, get to Sam.

I surveyed the inside, and saw Jake. He was lying on the floor, his russet form whimpering and making pathetic sounds. I glared and walked back into the house, trying to ignore the dizziness I was beginning to feel. I stumbled along, my vision becoming unreliable as my feet.

I reached the phone that was stationed just outside of the kitchen and dialed Sam's number. I couldn't call for an ambulance; how the fuck would I explain the giant dog in my house? I could see myself explaining it now: oh, I'm sorry, this is my dog, Jake, he suffers from elephantitis.

I rolled my eyes, mentally compelling Sam to pick up and Sam picked up immediately. I smirked, and blinked my eyes—black spots, that can't be good.

Before he could greet me I spilled, "Jake phased. He cut my arm. There's a lot of blood. I need to go to the hospital."

Sam instantly replied, "Okay, I'm on my way. Where's Jake?"

My head went fuzzy for a minute, and I mumbled back, "He's in the kitchen."

My eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and I swayed a little on my feet.

"Bells?"

"Hmm?"

"Isabella, stay on the phone with me!"

"I am!" I shouted back.

I heard the distant rumbling of Shelby, and looked to my front door. I hung up the phone and tripped my way over to the door. I stumbled out, and watched through fuzzy eyes as Sam ran towards me.

My knees buckled then, and the world tilted at a sickening angle, and I braced for impact. It ever came, Sam hauled me up, bracing me against his side as he steered me towards the car.

"Isabella, what happened?" He asked in his Alpha voice.

I closed my eyes, and tried to tell him, but he came out as a mumbled mess, "We fought…and he got angry? And then he was shaking…I tried to get out of the way…"

Sam growled, and I winced.

"What…what about Jake?" I asked as Sam opened the door of Shelby and settled me inside.

"Jared is taking care of him." Sam said in clipped words.

I wanted to tell him not to be mad. That it wasn't Jake's fault. But I couldn't, my head was all jumbled and fuzzy, in this weird state of limbo that seemed to render all my functions useless.

I was feeling nauseous. The waves a sickness didn't stop, and the dizzying affect of the green trees outside the passenger side window blending together was doing nothing to help my sick cause.

I moaned, and closed my eyes.

I could feel Sam's eyes on me. The sensation of spiders crawling along only further irritating me, I groaned and tried to ignore my pulsing arm and the spiders, and just fucking everything.

The world seemed to be ganging up on me; the rumble of Shelby's engine too loud, the heat of the air suffocating, the green trees too big. I frowned, and I felt warm, too warm. The whoosh of my heart was so loud I thought the Energizer Bunny was banging its drum in my head.

Finally the car came to a stop, its dizzying speed now a calm sway. I knew we were park, but my vertigo was thrown off and it felt like we were on a boat. Sam yanked my door open, and gently pulled me out before jogging towards what I presumed to be a hospital.

The chime of the automatic doors opening made me wince, and press myself closer to Sam. Sam grimaced, and said, "It'll be okay, Bells."

I nodded, and listened to the rumble of his voice as he commanded the nurse, "We need some help. My girlfriend lost a lot of blood."

It was then and there, under the fluorescent lights, and sterile walls of the hospital, that the black spots clouding my vision were back, swelling and blinding me.

I, Bella Swan, fainted.

_

My eyes blinked open.

Ouch. The bright fluorescent lights scorched my retinas, and I groaned. I can't believe I fainted. I rolled my eyes behind my lids, and moved a little. A loud crinkle answered me, and I scowled, opening my eyes to glance around at my surroundings.

I was in a large room, lying on a hospital bed that was covered with a strip of paper, but my space was designated by closed curtains. They didn't touch the floor, I saw bronze skin, Sam, I smirked, and noticed a nice pair of shoes in front of Sam. I frowned and looked down at myself.

I was covered in dried blood, my stomach churned in response, "That's just gross."

I heard Sam's answering chuckle, along with a more melodic one, kind of velvety. I frowned, and a pale hand drew back the curtains. I sat up a bit more, and watched as the owner of the hand became more visible.

He was DILF, to put it simply.

He was shorter than Sam of course, but had nice smooth alabaster skin. His features were sharp yet gentle, chiseled and smooth. His jaw line was impeccable and his eyes by far were the most heart stopping. A light topaz, maybe a light honey, but not as good as Sam's.

Sam.

I glanced over at him, and he held a firm scowl in place. I sighed, rolling my eyes. He was going to kill Jake. It wasn't Jake's fault—okay, it was his fault. But Jake didn't do it on purpose. I should have been more careful, Sam warned me.

The Doctor man cleared his throat, smiling at my display, and I met his gaze. A chill went through me, something was off about him. Sure, he seemed nice and normal, a perfect small town doctor, but the perfect hair, the beautiful features, were all too _perfect_.

Call me a cynic, but something was definitely wrong.

"Well, Bella," The Doctor began in a velvety voice, "Everything appears to be fine. You had to get stitches, and other than that we will have you come back at a later date, to see if it is healing properly, and if it is infected. Though I don't think that will happen, but just as a precaution keep it clean. We will also give you some medication for your wound. It will, unfortunately, leave a scar. Other than that, do you have any questions?"

I shook my head, and said, "Thank you…"

I was searching for his name, and he took the hint finishing it for me, "Dr. Cullen."

Cullen.

Vampire.

I squinted at him, and my eyes darted to Sam. He didn't meet my gaze, and I just glanced back to Dr. Cullen. He didn't seem so bad. I mean, for a vampire. Unless he's some sick fucker who likes to heal his prey before snacking on it. Ick.

I shuddered before smiling tightly.

"Well," he sighed. "We will see you in a bit."

I nodded and watched as he left with the most silent grace. I looked down at my left arm and saw that my entire forearm at been wrapped in gauze. I bit my lip and looked up at Sam who watched me with worried eyes.

"It was an accident, Sam." I announced, twisting around on the bed to hop off. I winced as blood rushed down to the wound, making it pulse all the more.

Sam grunted in response before he grabbed my right hand, entwining his fingers with my own, "I was so worried, Bells."

I looked up at him, raising my injured arm to cup his cheek, "I know, I'm okay now though, Sam. But I could use one thing."

Sam looked down at me with a smirk, before leaning down to plant a kiss against my lips. I smiled against them, and enjoyed his gentle warmth. I kissed him back, swiping my lips against his lovingly.

Love.

That's what it was.

That thing that made my heart swell when I saw him, made me want to making him laugh, smile, just be. I shuddered the thought to great to bear. This was it. Admitting this would give all the power he needed. So, with my eyes clenched shut, and my lips firmly against mine, I pushed the feelings away.

Sam pulled away and led me out of the room. We walked along the corridors hand in hand and finally out of the hospital in the same fashion. We reached Shelby and Sam opened my door, watching me with nervous eyes.

"It's a cut, Sam. Not a broken limb." I muttered, buckling myself in.

Sam grumbled something, but I was past trying to figure it all out. I was still thinking about earlier, about what Jake had said. I swallowed my pain, and hurt feelings, trying to see past his hurtful inclination as of late.

But I couldn't.

All that filled my heart was a deep seeded anger. One that made me want to scream, shout and cry all at once. Jake had taken it too far this time. I was tired of this. I didn't need him to tell me that the last fifteen years of my life spent on caring for him amounted to nothing.

I shook my head, and clenched my eyes shut. I hated him in this moment. I hated Jake so much right now. I hated him for making me feel this small, this little. For making me feel unworthy, like a spec of dust in his grand world. I fucking created his world.

I clenched my jaw, fuming as Shelby rumbled towards Sam's house. I frowned as we turned up the gravel driveway, and Sam replied, "I figured you might want to talk, or just relax."

I let out a sigh, and smiled at Sam. He was too good to me.

I shook those thoughts, hoping to dispel them. They left for now, and I climbed out of the car after de-buckling. Sam and I walked up the steps of his porch, and he fumbled with his keys before unlocking the door and letting us in.

We entered and I glanced at the clock in the living room which read one o'clock. It felt like so much later, and I gave into a yawn. I wandered over to the couch and plopped down on it, careful of my tender arm.

Sam continued on to the kitchen, and I rolled my eyes, that boy could eat. He returned moments later with water in hand. He sat down next to me pulling me into his lap with a small smile.

I chuckled, and rested my head on his pectoral muscle. He was gently brushing the underside of my thigh, I hummed in appreciation, letting out a warn out sigh. Sam remained silent, and for that I was thankful.

He knew not to push me. So I sat in my silence for a bit longer before mumbling pathetically, "I gave him everything."

Sam's hand stilled on my thigh momentarily before asking, "What do you mean?"

"I trusted him with everything, Sam," I sighed. "I let him in. Let him have a place in my heart. I love him, Sam, as a friend of course. I took care of him, made sure he was alright. I gave him it all…I gave him myself, I gave him my virginity, Sam."

That little tidbit earned a growled, "What?"

I blinked back the tears and in a voice coated thickly with my hurt I said, "It was last summer…and he was so upset, about his mom, you know? And he just kept saying that he wanted to be loved…so I did. I loved him in the best way that I could, as a friend. I loved him that night, Sam."

Sam growled, and gripped my thigh tightly.

"I'm sorry, please don't be angry." I pleaded, my voice sounding small as I felt.

Sam glanced down at me with wide eyes, "I'm not growling at you, babe. It' Jacob. That little shit. I know you are close to him, I just never thought that it was so…I don't know, deep?"

I chuckled, and with a face wet with tears I spoke, "Deep shit. That's what he called it. He called my fifteen years of taking care of him shit."

Sam tilted my chin up, "He's a fool, Isabella. A stupid boy who will come to regret his words."

I frowned and said, "Leave him be, Sam. He's a pack member; don't let our issues harm that."

Sam grunted again and I felt him shake his head.

"Thank you, Sam." I murmured with my cheek pressed against his warmth.

"For what?"

"For taking care of me."

"I'll always be there to take care of you, Bells."

I smiled against his chest, and it widened when he laid a kiss upon the top of my head. It was in this moment, tucked against Sam that I knew one thing for certain.

I was in love with Sam Uley.

That thought scared me, and relieved me all at once. He had power now, but he didn't know it, which made him harmless, for now.

But I couldn't hold it in for long. But I would. I had to.

So with that, I coveted my one last final inkling of control, and nestled further into the arms of the man who held my heart, my love, my very being.

**A/N: Wow. That was intense.**

**I hope you all liked it; I thought it was well done. Sorry for that little Bella/Jake thing, bet you didn't see that coming, did ya? If you did or did not, regardless, please review. I really appreciate them and they really do inspire me. **

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**Playlist:**

**Notion—Kings of Leon**

**Be Somebody—Kings of Leon**

**On Call—Kings of Leon**

**The Funeral—Band of Horses**

**Love Song—Sara Bareilles **

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**Happy Easter to all those out there who are honoring this day!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: This chapter is a big one and I warn you all right now. Be prepared, you have been warned. **

**Thanks to all who have reviewed, and added the story and me to their alerts or favorites. I appreciate all the support you guys have given, and you will never know how thank fully I am. **

**Anyway I hope you enjoy this kind of short chapter. Oh, and sorry for the slow update. **

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**Disclaimer: All characters, settings, ideas and overall concepts belong to S.M—no copy right infringement intended. **

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**Chapter Nineteen: House of Cards**

My kitchen was a mess, to put it simply.

A chair was toppled over, there were blood stains and spatter on the furnishings, and there were shredded clothes everywhere. Jake's clothes. I clenched my jaw, snapping it shut. I sighed, and made a slow turn, and let my eyes reap the benefits of my actions.

It had been my fault, I should have been more careful. Sam had warned me, but no, I just had to have it out with Jake. I shook my head and worried my lower lip. This seen of chaos, was it the final blow? Was my friendship with Jake over? I didn't want it to be, but part of me recognized that if Jake were to beg on his knees for forgiveness, then we would have to start from scratch.

After all this hurt and fucked up shit, we would never be able to retrieve what he had before. Part of it was because of the words uttered, the looks exchanged, the changes made, but more so, because what Jake and I had before, was just an accident waiting to happen. If Jake was so inclined to seek me out again, we would be starting anew.

That thought made me disappointed, but relieved as well. I had changed, everyone had changed, and maybe it was best that we all start over. But would I be able to?

I sighed, and ran my good hand through my hair. I didn't know if I was able, but at this point, I didn't really want to think about it. I was exhausted. I was emotionally, physically, and mentally ready to call it a day.

The past couple of days had been amazing, astounding, even, but it was with a constant undertone of doom. I loved Sam, and fuck if I wasn't tied here before, I surely was now. I was tired of the promises, I was tired of this heavy weight I always seemed to feel, and I felt like I was drowning.

I knew that I was bound here forever, bound to him, bound to this life. A life that I didn't want, a life that made me hold my tongue. I had gotten a taste of it over the past couple days but, surely that wouldn't be enough. I couldn't do it.

People talked of being homesick, but I was sick of home.

I tried to push away my poisonous thoughts telling myself to think of Sam, think of how much he had done for me, what he was willing to do for me. But it didn't do much, I was still tired, and at the thought of trying to be this all the time for the rest of my life, sickened me.

Sighing again, I tried to ignore my latest epiphany.

I was in love with Sam. I didn't know how it happened, but I just did. I was chained to him by my love, a love that made my life with him seem all the more appealing. But could I do it? Was I even capable of such a task?

I didn't know.

Just then Jared walked in, and I briefly wondered where Sam was. Jared entered the kitchen, glancing at me and then at my arm, wincing as he did so. I just stared and Jared made eye contact, and asked, "Are you alright?"

I nodded and asked, "Where's Sam?"

It was crazy how I felt the need to know where he was, to not be apart from him. Jared laughed nervously, "He told me to tell you that he would be back soon just as he said when he dropped you off."

I rolled my eyes in impatience, "He's looking for Jake, isn't he?"

Jared just stared at me, and I just pushed past him. I walked towards the front door and stepped out, the warm air caressing me as my eyes scanned the surrounding area. Of course there was no sign of anyone; the only werewolf in sight was Jared, who was cleaning up my kitchen.

I clenched my jaw, and observed the clouds that were rolling in. Looks like the sunny days were over, I thought wryly. I turned away and walked back into the house and observed as Jared flitted about the kitchen righting what was wrong with quick nimble fingers.

I hopped up onto the kitchen counter, wincing as my wounded arm was exerted. Jared frowned and then asked, "You alright?"

I nodded, "It looks worse than it is."

Jared nodded, wiping the cupboard above the sink down. I watched him with curious eyes, and before I could stop myself I blurted out, "Is it hard to control? Phasing, I mean."

Jared looked at me with raised eyebrows, "Bella, what happened with Jake wasn't your fault. It was a freak accident."

I nodded but insisted, "Is it though?"

Jared leaned on the counter opposite me, explaining, "Not for me, no. But I have had time to build up my control, perfect it. Jake is new at it all, of course his control is easily lost."

Nodding, worried my lower lip in contemplation. I could feel Jared watching me, and I kept my eyes cast away. Jared cleared his throat nervously before asking, "Not that I mean to pry, but, Bella, what happened?"

I smirked, and thought that I might as well tell him, he was going to find out some way or another, and not from me. "We argued about what had taken place prior to all of this, and it didn't end well. He phased. I bled."

Jared nodded and said, "Thanks."

"Did I really have a choice?" I scoffed.

Jared set his lips in a firm line before replying, "I know what you mean, but manners don't go out the window just because of certain advantages."

I threw a small smile his way as I asked, "Is Sam going to hurt him?"

Jared chuckled, "Probably. Bella, you've got to understand that as a werewolf we are insanely territorial as well as protective. Jake harmed the Alpha's mate. Shit like that doesn't go unpunished."

I scowled, "It wasn't Jake's fault, though. He couldn't control it."

It was Jared who scoffed now. "Bella, he could have avoided this entirely. He came over here, knowing the risks. One of them being losing control and harming you. Sam told him not to, but relented."

My heart sank, that's why Sam was beating himself up. All the way to my house Sam had been unusually quiet, and more than anything, timid. It was as though he were handling glass; his touches gentle as they were cautious. It all made sense now.

I rubbed my face, trying to wipe away the frustration.

"Do you ever wish you were someone else?" I mumbled into my hands.

"What do you mean?"

"You know…like, a different life, a different future, the one that didn't include a tail and a life time sentence to La Push?" I asked, glancing up at him.

Jared frowned, "Well, I did at the beginning. I was ready to get out of here, La Push that is, before I phased. At that time I wanted nothing more. But now, I don't know. I mean, I was given this life for a reason, why fight it?"

I stared at him for a moment, not expecting such wisdom fueled words. I knew he was right. I knew I should move forward, embrace this, but how could I when I still longed for a life of freedom?

Jared sighed, "Listen, Bella, I'm not going to even pretend to know what it's like but you have to stop wishing for something better. Because, truthfully, there probably was a better more excitingly average life waiting for you before all of this, but it's gone. That's something you need to accept, because you're not doing Sam, or yourself any favors."

I scowled at him, feeling like sticking my tongue out and telling him that I wasn't inept, that I was aware of all those things.

"Jared, you make it sound as though it's so very simple. You have to understand, you're asking me to stop carrying a torch for the life I have so desperately worked towards for the better part of my seventeen years on this earth. How am I to let go of my dreams of University and supplement them with…with…I don't fucking know."

Jared smirked at me, "Exactly, Bella. You don't even know the options you hold."

I rolled my eyes at him, and snapped, "Yeah, well when you figure out how I am supposed to be the imprint Sam needs me to be, as well as live out my ideal life, let me know."

I knew Jared was right. That I needed to get my head out of the clouds, and stop wishing for a ship to come back to port that has already sailed. But that did little to help me. Just because you knew you had to do something didn't make it any easier to follow through on

I hopped off the counter, muttering, "If Sam comes around looking, I'm up in my room."

Part of me hoped that he didn't come looking. I had forgotten what it felt like to be alone, to be completely independent again. I had forgotten what it felt like to be able to think by myself, without the constant nagging thoughts of Sam tugging at my psyche. I knew they would still be there, but wouldn't be as strong if Sam, the source of it all, was not present.

I felt guilty for pushing him away, for wishing him away, but today had be so tiring and brought it all to the surface. All the longings, all the frustrations filled me up to the brim, and were seemingly all I could think about. I knew I shouldn't, based on history it wasn't a smart choice, however, it was _my_ choice, and that was all that mattered.

So there I sat on my bed, staring blankly at the wall in front of me, just thinking.

I didn't know exactly what it was that was bothering me. Sure, Jake's hurtful words sent me over the edge, and made me want to scream at him, but really all my anger circled back to Sam. I was angry. I was angry that I had to spend the rest of my life here, angry that he had dragged me into this fucked up world, and I was so fucking angry at myself for pretending like it was okay for the past few days. I had been playing house for the past few days, and it had been nice. Really it had, but somehow, I was still feeling unfulfilled.

I knew I should stop these thoughts, but what was the point? I couldn't pretend like I wasn't feeling them, as if they weren't true. And I didn't plan on it.

_

I felt him before I saw him.

This strange sense welled up inside me, tightening and expending with every breath. It ebbed and flowed, and crashed when Sam walked into my bedroom. The same overwhelming intensity swam through me, awakening every pore, causing every hair to stand straight on my body.

I looked Sam over, my eyes searching for evidence. I took inventory and there was nothing to be seen, other than messy wild hair that looked to have a life of its own. I looked away, and pulled my legs up into my, drawing myself inward, trying to clamp down my frustration.

Why couldn't he have just stayed away?

I cast my eyes downward, and tried to ignore my gasping breaths. It was absolutely ridiculous. But I couldn't stop, my lungs seemed to have shrunk, only letting in little intakes of air.

Part of me chalked it up to the imprint, but I also knew it was out of fear. I was scared now. I loved him, and was sure it was written all over my face. He could do anything now, and I knew that I couldn't let it out, that I just couldn't let him know.

Sam walked over to me, his steps cautious as they were careful, and I seemed to curl in on myself even further. Sam let out a tired sigh, and stood in front of me. I stayed still, and tried not to flinch when I felt his warm hands circle my calves, and slowly tugging them out of their stiff yet protective positioning.

"You can't hide from me."

I shuddered as his deep voice reached out and caressed my senses, and whimpered when he cupped my face in his hands, tilting it upward. He slowly leaned down, his warm breath fanning out and across my lips—a tease for what was to come.

I wait and wait for the sweet torture that is his touch, wait for the slow burn that only he ignites, wait for that pillar of need and raw wanting that only Sam manages to raise, and there it is, completely consuming me.

Sam lips are gentle, yet aggressive, and I know he is trying to prove something, and I make this tortured sound against his prideful lips, and he stops, pulling away to look me in the eyes.

"What is wrong?"

I cast my eyes downward yet again, feeling all the emotions rise up against me, filling my eyes with tears and my lungs with turmoil. I choke back a sob, and relent, "I can't do it."

Sam immediately steps away, and I feel cold, bare. He folds his arms over his chest, and I want to take my words back. But I can't they are already out there, growing between us, poisoning us.

"Can't or won't?" Sam challenged me, fire in his eyes.

I didn't say anything. What was I supposed to tell him: that no, I couldn't handle this life, couldn't handle its raw intensity; that I couldn't bring myself to settle down here, in Forks of all places, and that I couldn't bring myself to love him.

I just remained quiet, my tears welling up and spilling over, splashing against my cheeks, and I let out a tortured sob, because I didn't _know_. I didn't know the answer. I didn't know if it was couldn't or wouldn't. Nothing was sure any more.

"Which is it?" He asked, his voice was raised, angry and loud.

I shook my head, my lower lip trembling with the wait of the words that so desperately need release. Instead I tucked it in, grabbing it with my teeth. Sam returned to his place in front of me, looking down at me from his towering position, and pinched my chin between his thumb and fore finger.

"Bella, which is it?"

I shook my head as much as I could in my position, not wanting to give him the answers.

He tore away from me, shouting, "Damn it, Isabella!"

I looked down; swallowing thickly as I felt his hurt and disappointment mingle with my own through the imprint. I wiped my tears, only to have them replaced anew.

I lifted my eyes to see him in all his beauty.

"You make all these fucking promises, Bella! Telling me that you are willing and able, and you just turn away now? Why couldn't you have saved me all this false hope and torture? You are such a fucking liar."

His words reached out and slapped me. I felt their cruel sting, bringing me to my knees, as I sobbed out, "I am sorry, okay? I can't do it Sam, I am not strong enough!"

"Yes you are. You just don't want to be. You know why? Because being strong enough would mean facing this head on. It would mean entering this life, knowing it wouldn't be easy, knowing you would get hurt, knowing that it would involve actually giving yourself over to some one for once, and not holding back. You are a coward Bella, a fucking coward." Sam spat, his words slicing through me.

My voice was thick with tears yelled, "Fuck you! You don't know me, Sam! So don't you dare try and pretend like you do!"

I knew he was right but I couldn't stop.

"And whose fault is that, huh?" He shouted back, equally loud.

I shrieked in anguish, my tears drying with the heated blaze of my anger, "It's not like you've tried, you bastard!"

"Are you suggesting I haven't? Jesus Christ, Bella! How could I have when you shut me out every chance I got? I eventually stopped trying knowing you would fucking ream me a new one all because I want to know you. How could I when you didn't even want me to know you?" Sam yelled at me.

"Piss off! For the past days I have been everything you needed me to be, and not once during that period did you try!" I shouted, standing now, up in arms.

Sam laughed mirthlessly, "I never asked you to be that, Bella! I just wanted you to be you, and introduce you to my life!"

"Introduce me to you your life?" I scoffed. "I hardly call attacking your imprint's best friend introducing me to your life!"

Sam growled, "How can he be your best friend, Bella? After everything he has done."

My hackles rose to new heights and I screeched, "Don't you fucking dare pass judgment, Samuel! You don't know me, or Jake!"

Sam chuckled that humorless laugh, and cruelly lashed out, "Really? From what I know he doesn't value anything you've done for him, so what does that say about your friendship, hmm? Or was it a friendship? Was it anything, ever?"

"Shut up!" I screamed.

"Make me, Bella. Because I can and will go on! You talk about Jake as if he is the best friend you have ever had, as if he is worth such redemption? But what has he done to earn it other than suck you dry and leaving you to make good of what he has left over for you?" Sam mocked.

"You're making me choose, Sam! You promised me I wouldn't have to choose!" I yelled, tears returning.

Sam glared and said, "I am not making you do anything, Bella. You always do this, is there no happy medium?"

I sniveled and wiped away my tears.

"You have this all or nothing attitude, Bella! It doesn't have to be that way. You can be with me, and be happy. You can stay in La Push and be happy. It's all up to you. You are in control of your happiness, not me, not Jake, _you_."

I was panting now, my chest heaving with the exertion of our fight. My heart thrummed rapidly, and there was so much I wanted to say, but I couldn't. Not now, with all his opinions and thoughts of me whirling around.

"Leave." I said coldly, turning away from him.

"Bella…" Sam whispered tiredly.

"You said I was in control of my own happiness, yes?" I snapped, not looking back to see him, "It would make me extremely happy if you would leave right now. I can't bear to be around you."

Sam huffed, "Fine."

And then, just as ordered, Sam left.

_

I lay, curled on my side, as the weight of reality slowly suffocated me. I had told Sam to leave. Told him I was happy if he wasn't there. I was a liar. But it didn't matter. Sam was gone.

I didn't know how long it had been, and I didn't want to know. Why put a time to my pathetic inclination as of late? I knew it was not healthy to lie hear and think these tortuous thoughts, to replay the argument, our argument, again and again.

I rolled onto my back, feeling tears drip and slide easily down my temples. Sam had said some hurtful things, and I in turn, said some equally hurtful things. We were both in the wrong, but that didn't take away the sting.

I didn't want to deal with it.

Frowning I glanced at my clock and saw that it was around three o'clock. Humph, I had been laying here for an hour. It had felt like a lifetime. Rolling my eyes at myself, I sniffled pathetically and wiped away my tears.

I sat up, deciding that I would do what I did best.

I was going to ignore, push away, and squander it all away at the bottom of a bottle.

I got up, twisting around and leaving my warm nest of bed sheets. I knew my parents weren't home, and with that comforting knowledge I descended the stairs and walked into the living room.

In the corner sat the liquor cabinet and I walked over to it, my head held high, my lower lip trembling. I fiddled with the knobs, ordering my shaking hands to stop and pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels.

Gripping the bottle in my hand, the glass felt cold and foreign, and it just reminded me how long it had been since I got smashed. Shrugging it off, and the tiny voice that nagged at me that I should put it back and call Sam, I walked away and back up to my room.

I sat on my bed for a long while, the bottle of liquor sitting all high and mighty on my desk. I had it positioned in front of me so that it was staring me in the face, challenging me with its glassy finish and smooth labels. Sighing, I stood, and reached for the bottle.

I unscrewed the cap, and with tears running down my cheeks I brought it to my salty lips. I felt the liquid scorch my throat as my poison of choice slithered down my pipes. I coughed a little after bringing the glass away from my mouth; it turned into a sob as I thought of everything.

I pushed him away.

Another sob.

I hurt him like I had hurt everyone else I did in my life; it was my talent of sorts.

Another swig of the bottle.

I didn't know how it happened, but I had never felt more unsure of anything in my life. I had hurt Sam in the worst way, yanking my promises out from under his feet, tearing down the wall of trust and I had never regretted anything more in my life.

Would we come back from this?

An embarrassingly loud sob escaped.

Would he want me still?

A chugged slurp of Jack Daniels.

Would I want him to want me?

I lay down, the bottle held up above the floor with my extended arm. Tears came fast and freely now, and I didn't know how to stop them. I had done it. I had destroyed him, lived out my fears with my sharp tongue. I hated myself for it. Why did I let it happen? I shook my head, releasing a whimper as it pounded with its resistance.

If I could just rewind time, take it back.

But I couldn't. It was too late. The damage was done.

I brought the bottle back to my lips, ignoring my stomach's protests. It lurched and I was close to throwing up half of the bottle, but I resisted, and breathed in through my nose. I clenched my eyes shut, and sat up, setting the bottle down on the night stand table.

I stumbled over to my stereo and pressed play. I couldn't remember the last CD I put in, and smiled as the sound of Weezer filtered into my room. I cranked up the volume and turned back to the bottle.

I sat on my bed cross legged and twisted, nursing the bottle. I bobbed my head along with the music, and took large deep slurps, wanting that numbness people spoke of. I was waiting; I could feel it though, slowly numbing me, turning me cold. I smiled ruefully and sipped some more.

I set the bottle down, capped and alone under my bed. I laid back and stared blankly at my sealing. I closed my eyes, brought my hand up to my lips, smiling because I couldn't feel them. Sighing I curled up, and with my head numbed and my lips unfeeling, I whispered, "I'm sorry."

With that I let the oily ropes of sleep drag me down under, deep down into the darkness.

_

"Ouch…" I moaned as I opened my eyes, blinding morning light scorched my retinas. I scowled and tried to ignore my throbbing head. I found no success as it throbbed in the most painful way possible. It felt like little hammers were pounding at my skull.

"Fuck." I muttered, and allowed my eyes to open. I shouldn't have.

Closing them again, I accounted for the fact that I shouldn't have drank that much last night. My stereo was still playing, and I pulled myself into a sitting position. My stomach lurched and I clamped my hand over my mouth.

I launched myself out of bed and tore down the hallway slamming through the bathroom and emptying the contents of my upset stomach. I heaved until I could heave no more, and slid down to the floor, flushing the toilet as I did so. I hummed happily as I pressed my fore head to the cold porcelain.

After dwelling on the floor for about a half hour or so, I slowly stood to face the mirror.

I looked like hell. My hair was a rat's nest, sticking to my slicked with sweat forehead and my face was flushed pale, and I couldn't help my note the swollen irritated eyes. I groaned, and regretted it, mumbling, "Shush."

I felt gross and dirty, and well, hung over. So I turned to my shower, turning the knobs, allowing the water to warm as I reached into my cabinet and pulled out some Aspirin. I drank from the tap and swallowed the little pills.

I peeled off the clothes I was wearing and stepped into the water. The warm spray caresses my muscles, and I turn my face up into it, hoping its heat will get rid of all the pounding. It doesn't and I turn away.

I wash my hair, condition it and I feel its silky smoothness as it slides against my skin. I am immediately reminded of how Sam liked my hair and all of a sudden it's not just the shower water that is washing my face.

I taste the salty diluted tears and slide down the cool shower wall, pulling my knees up and inward. Sniffling I try to calm down but the sobs only increase, and soon my whole body is shuddering violently with their force.

Half of it is the pain of hurting Sam, loosing him, but the other half is the pain of knowing that is was my fault. I sob louder and soon I must force myself to calm down, hyperventilating will not do me any good.

I raise myself up, my hiccupping breaths bouncing off of the tile walls as I shut off the water. I step out of the shower, and onto my fluffy mat wrapping myself in a towel. Heading out I enter my bedroom, quickly get dressed—leather jacket and combat boots in all—and clomp down the stairs.

My hair is damp as I tell my mom in a note that I am going out to the diner, and I pull out my black Ray Bans slipping them over my eyes to shield the poor retinas from the bright over cast sky.

I walked out of the house, my steps slow and sluggish. So, two tears later and one big ass sob, I found myself at the diner—where it all started. I pulled the door open, the loud bell clanging over head, letting everyone know I was here.

I kept the sunglasses on, choosing to be the douche that wore their glasses inside and sat at the bar on the bright red backless stool. I sat waiting for my menu and it arrived from the hand of Sue who looked at me with concerned eyes.

I am sure I looked great—the picture of health with my pale cheeks, washed out lips and scowl firmly in place. She left the menu in my care, and I flipped through it, deciding on coffee and a slice of Sue's apple pie.

I set the menu down signaling my decision and Sue came over taking my order with quick efficiency that came only with years of practice and flitting away to yell my order out to whomever was in the kitchen presently.

My coffee was delivered, the steam circling and playing above the cup. I picked it up, not caring to add anything, and took a swig, ignoring the scalding heat. My slice of pie was delivered shortly after, and I picked at it for a little—not trusting my sensitive stomach.

Nearly half of my pie was gone when the bell clanged over head, and I, along with all the other patrons, looked up to see who was entering. My heart stopped, and I ducked my head as I watched Paul and Quil walked in, sliding into Sam and I's booth.

At the mention of Sam, tears rose, choking me. I knew things had changed. I had said a lot of things and as did Sam, but somehow I knew that this wasn't some silly fight. This was big, it revealed things that had been kept hidden, and I didn't know how we could back to that easy carefree relationship we had managed to form in the past couple of days with these words hanging over our heads.

So, swallowing thickly, I tossed down a fifteen, leaving a fair tip, I got up and headed for the door. I passed by quickly, but not quick enough for werewolves.

"Bella!" Quil said his smile warm.

I stopped at their table, clearing my throat and mumbling, "Hey."

Paul frowned and asked with a concern frown, "You alright?"

I smiled weakly, and nodded.

Quil wasn't so easy to fool. "What happened, Bella?"

I shook my head, feeling the tears splash against my cheeks, "Nothing. I'm fine."

Quil clenched his jaw, and growled, "What happened?"

"Nothing, okay? I was myself and I got into a fight with Sam."

Quil cocked his head to the side, and Paul spoke, "Why don't you wait for him, we're meeting him here. I am sure it's nothing an apology can't fix."

I speared him with my eyes and snapped, "An apology won't do shit."

Quil shook his head, and pleaded, "Why don't you wait?"

"I'm done waiting."

_

I was walking home, the hurt faces of Paul and Embry still fresh even though I had long ago left the Diner behind. I walked tiredly, and my feet felt heavy as they came down to meet the ground with every step.

I had been walking for a while now, and was just passing the portion of the road that was lined with trees. I walked a little faster, the desolate road seeming more fearsome, threatening. Anxiety bubbled up, and I glanced around, knowing I was safe. This was La Push, I had always been safe.

But still that did not quell the anxiety, and I got the feeling one gets when you are being watched. I shuddered, not liking it one bit. It wasn't the friendly parade of spiders Sam caused; it was like cold fingers dancing over your skin.

Finally the forest cleared and the feeling left me.

I continued to walk at a fast pace, seeking the comfort only a home could bring and sprinted up my porch steps when I finally made it home. I walked into the house and it met me with silence.

I toed off my combat boots, shrugged off my leather jacket and walked into the living room. I plopped down onto the couch and turned on the television.

I watched as the nameless faces flickered across the screen, allowing me to watch their perfect lives, with their perfect hair and listen to their perfect responses. If only life was like television. If it were, I never would have screwed Jake over, never would have pushed Sam away, but I had. In the real world I had, and I didn't have a scripted response to say, a drafted situation that would make for the best solution, all I had was my broken heart and crushed psyche.

Sighing I closed my eyes, and allowed my mind to drift. I felt sleep tugging at me, requesting my submission, and I relented easily, for this way, I could dream, and dream I would, of a perfect life where everything was alright and I hadn't hurt the man I loved.

But it didn't matter how much I dreamed, or hoped because I would open my eyes again, and know that I had fucked up, again. So, with that lovely thought on the fore front of my mind, I let sleep take me, ready for its soothing numbness and perfect detachment.

**A/N: Short, I know. But that's all for now, and I thought you might appreciate this rather than nothing. This chapter was very emotional, and I hope that you enjoyed it even though Sam and Bella are in shambles. **

**I thought it was alright, I am not that impressed, but meh…**

**Anyway, let me know what your thoughts are.**

**Playlist of this chapter:**

**House of Cards—Air Traffic Control**

**Angel and the One—Weezer**

**Say it ain't so—Weezer**

**Thought I knew—Weezer**

**Milk—Kings of Leon**

**Automatic—Weezer**

**Dreamin'—Weezer**

**You Run Away—Bare-naked Ladies**

**Please review, it means a lot to me! Hope you enjoyed!**

**Oh and I have a question for you: who do you think is to blame, Sam or Bella? Both? Or, who are you mad at more?**

**Laters**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Okay this is it. I read all your reviews—as per usual—and took all that feed back and wrote this chapter based on it. So, with that being said, I hope all of you get something out of this and walk away…or click away pleased…ha hah. Any way, I leave you all to read and hope you enjoy it. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing—none of the characters, ideas, settings belong to me, I just borrow from S.M. so I thank her for allowing us to do so, and there is no copy right infringement intended.**

**Please review!**

**Boarders**

**Chapter 20: Will he be waiting?**

It had been two days since Sam and I fought. Two fucking days. Do you know how long forty-eight hours feel when you heart feels like it's pushing fire through your veins, and your heart is throbbing every second inducing more and more pain, so that even your hair hurts?

It feels like forever, to put it lightly. The thing is that you hurt _everywhere_. The imprint is screaming at me to drive over to Sam's, drop to my knees and beg for forgiveness. But I can't, because that would mean moving. It hurt to move—my muscles were stiff and unyielding and every time I did try and use them, they screamed in protest.

So I was forced to remain in my bed, and only when my bladder threatened to explode did I move. This, in a way, was a double edged sword. In my position I could claim sickness; however it also gave me time to think about what had happened.

I acknowledged that it was my fault. I knew that I had been immature and selfish in my decision, in my way of going about things. I should have talked to Sam about my fears and concerns instead of pushing him away. I had been wrong to do that to him, to shut him out because I was freaking out.

I knew it was up to me to go to Sam.

But part of me, the very angry part of me, wanted to stay away and prove to him that I could survive on my own without him—that I could return to normal. I knew it was foolish, because I knew that I would never retain that normalcy. Another part of me felt like yes, I should go to Sam, talk to him and pray to the Gods, my Gods; that he could forgive me.

The majority of me though, was quite comfortable to remain a coward and stay in my little nest of bed sheets—where I didn't know whether Sam was thinking of me, if he missed me like I missed him, if his body was screaming at him. I was approaching this with the logic that I wasn't going to ask the question I didn't want the answer to.

Truthfully, I didn't really want to know how Sam felt about this. It wasn't that I didn't care, I did care, a lot, but more so I didn't want to know the extent of the damage. I didn't want to know how badly I had hurt him, harmed us as a couple.

I knew that I would be forced to confront him, if not by my conscience but by the imprint itself. I remember my mom talking about how she was forced to go find Dad, that the imprint had literally forced her hand.

It was bad enough as it was now, and I didn't know how it could get much worse. The imprint seemed to go deeper than an emotional bond, my body, as I have mentioned was suffering.

It felt like I had a hankering for something, as though I had this massive craving that I felt with every pore, every cell of my body. My skin was itching for his touch, my lungs craving his pleasingly comforting scent, and my tongue his taste. I couldn't escape it; every breath seemed like a disappointment, and I had never felt to hollow and barren in my entire life, as if I was missing something.

I knew, obviously, what I was missing, but I wasn't ready to go out and find it.

_

I still wasn't ready on Saturday, stretching the separation period to a frightening four days.

It was worse, if that were possible.

Due to the fact that I had basically barricaded myself in my bedroom I hadn't really been eating properly. My mother brought up small things, but only soda crackers and dry toast—things you would give a sick person. I appreciated that, I really did, because it felt like I was sick. I knew my mother suspected that I wasn't just sick, but was smart enough to leave me be to wallow in my regret.

As well as not be able to hold much down other than my mother's burnt toast and stale soda crackers, I was running a small fever. It was nothing major, just a little above normal, but it was enough to make me feel uncomfortable. But still, it was getting a little ridiculous. I couldn't believe that this was all tied to being separated from Sam.

I knew that I needed to act, and act soon before the pain got any worse. It was like having really bad cramps—that ache that was a near constant, varying in degrees of pain—but I felt that around the area where my heart was located.

I know, an odd metaphor, but what the hell, it described it perfectly.

It was getting worse though. The pain was growing, slowly becoming the only thing that I could think about. This wasn't good, at all—not by any means. I couldn't really apply the logic of mind over matter when all I could think about was the pain as I was bed ridden.

I knew that I should be the one to go to Sam, that I should be the one to drag my ass out of bed, go over to his place, and hope with my very being that Sam would take me back. But that was such a frightening prospect. What if he didn't want to see me? What if he didn't want my apologies? What if I had taken it too far?

As you can see, there were a lot of 'ifs' to be concerned about.

I also realized that the only way to find out if said concerns were correct or not would be to go over to Sam's and sort this out. However, that was a scary plan of action. I didn't want him to say anything more; I didn't want him to divulge his true opinion of me any more than he had. Because from what I heard, it wasn't too good.

I wanted to go to Sam. Truly, I did, but every time I turned to go, to drive over and lay myself out at his mercy, I stopped. My fears and exaggerated nerves kept me where I was, shackled to the bed. I knew that if I just acted, nerves be damned, and went with my instinct, that I would make it to Sam's.

What would I say though, assuming I ever made it to Sam's? Would I tell him that I was sorry that I was a two-faced bitch who couldn't make up her mind? Or would I tell him that this was all too great for me, that I would prefer not to be a mate, but a friend? No, most definitely not. Would I tell him that I loved him, that I had realized my mistakes and had come to repent?

I shook my head, listening to the rustle of the fabric of my pillow case.

I really didn't know. I didn't know Sam well enough to know which action was best to pursue. I assume honesty would be best, but that was the thing—the truth was dangerous. It could either help me or work against me. I mean, I knew, that if and when I made it to Sam's that I was going to have to be honest, but it was more a question of how much honesty I was willing to dish out.

I sighed, and closed my eyes. Behind my closed lids, using the darkness as a canvas, I reconstructed him. Starting with his beautiful, deep, _honest_ eyes, that could be sleek as the night and light as the honey my mother put in her tea. I added his high cheek bones, painting them that perfect shade of bronze. His face was completed with his strong jaw line, and I felt myself smiling faintly at the sight of him. I envisioned his perfect inky hair, that fell in beautiful layered waves that curled behind his ears, fell into his eyes, and brushed the back of his neck. I painted his broad shoulders, and could almost feel them beneath my hands.

I was halfway through creating my Honest Sam when there was a knock at my door preceding the entrance of my mother. She walked in, holding a glass of flat ginger ale and equally dry, bland toast. My stomach rumbled despite of the plain and equally less filling food, and I sat up a bit more in my bed.

She walked over, and set it down on my lap before sitting down on the edge of my bed. She gazed at me with concerned, yet knowing eyes. I held my breath, waiting for the inevitable question:

"What happened, baby girl?"

I smiled at my mother's term of endearment, picking at my toast, "We had a disagreement."

I could almost see my mother raise her eye brows, but I kept my eyes focused upon the dissection of my dinner. I heard my mother's loud exhale of impatience, and smirked when she finally prodded, "A disagreement that has you hiding in your bedroom?"

I scowled, and looked up, "I am not hiding!"

My mother pursed her lips, "Oh really?"

"I'm not!" I huffed.

"Bella," my mother sighed, smoothing down my hair. "You can't hide from Sam forever. You're both suffering now, how long must it go on? Because…if it goes on for too long, you'll be in danger. Bella, the first months, sometimes the first year of an imprint is highly fragile, and requires a near constant flow of contact. Do you understand what I am telling you?"

I nodded, and felt my heart clench—how long could this last? However long I could make it last, an inner voice whispered.

My mother softly stroked my cheek, with only the tenderness a mother possessed, "I worry, you know."

I frowned, "Why?"

My mother just smiled a small smile, "I'm your mother, I'll ways worry."

I gave her my look and said, "No. Why are you so worried _now_? It'll be okay. _I'll_ be okay."

She laughed, "I know! But, it's just that, you're so strong and independent, and I just worry that you'll never learn that you don't have to be alone all the time, that you don't have to be responsible for everything, that it's okay to rely on someone else for something."

I knew she was hinting that I could trust Sam, rely on him. But she was a little late with this talk. I already trusted Sam, already relied on him, a little too heavily; I loved him, that was why I was here. I was scared. I knew all these things, and I just couldn't handle it.

I sighed, "I know, Mom."

"Do you, though?"

I smiled tightly, and replied, "I know."

She drew back, standing, having obviously got my message, and said, "Well, let me know if you need me."

I kept my eyes on the spot she had vacated, and nodded slightly. I did need her. I needed her to hold me as I cried, I needed her to tell me that I hadn't fucked it all up beyond repair, but even with the words balled up in the back of my throat, I didn't say anything. I couldn't. I couldn't let it all out and start that pity party all over again.

So, I listened to the click of my bedroom door, the sounds of her feet leaving me alone, and I sat there, silent tears leaking from my eyes. I sniffled, using the napkin intended for my food to wipe my eyes.

"Stop it!" I ordered myself in whisper.

It was my own fault, anyway.

So I nibbled on my dry toast, sipped my flat ginger ale and tried to focus on anything but Sam. That task proved difficult when I found myself, ten minutes later, crying over him. I scowled angrily, and set my food down and got up out of bed. I marched over to the full length mirror that was hanging on the back of my closed door.

I stood there, and basically reamed myself a new asshole, "You are going to stop crying and accept the fact that you are choosing to stay in your room, hiding from Sam, and if you really want to fix things you will. But until then, no more tears!"

I nodded affirmatively at my reflected self and turned back to my room. I gazed upon what was my self imposed cell for the past four days and decided that cleaning it provided the best distraction at this point.

With that I began collecting my dirty laundry off the flower, ignoring the blooming pain of my heart that seemed to stretch outward with each movement, eventually causing me to wince, and grab my right side in pain.

I gritted my teeth, and sat down in my desk chair.

"What are you doing?" I whisper.

The question bounces back to me off my plain walls, and I don't have answer. I didn't know what I was doing. How could I distract myself when every movement inspired a jet of pain that speared me? I sat there, and shook my head before taking in a deep breath and getting up to continue my cleaning.

I knew it was insignificant as rain in La Push but I just felt like if I could get through this small trivial task that maybe I could talk to Sam. I know, pathetic, right? But I just needed to do it. To maybe prove that I could do something productive, even when I was being a yellow-bellied coward and hiding from Sam.

I had finished in an hour, and was on my way down to the laundry room with my teal basket—which was filled with clothes—when there was a knock at the door. My heart leapt up in my throat, and for a moment I allowed myself to hope that Sam was behind the door. I set my basket down on the last step of the stairs and walked over to the door and opened it.

My heart plummeted to my toes and with a slump of my soldiers I said, "Hey, Paul."

Paul looked down at me, "Bella, can I talk to you?"

I nodded and stepped out, shutting my front door behind me. A ball of nerves formed in my stomach, and I had this feeling that I wasn't going to like what Paul had to say. Instead of letting that show, I walked over to the railing of the porch and leaned against it, "What's up?"

Paul sighed, "What do you mean 'what's up', Bella, it's been four days. What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

I looked down, somehow feeling as though I was being scolded and tried not to snap out a defensive remark. I had to remind myself that Paul was a werewolf that would phase here on my front porch if I got him too angry, and I didn't need another injury.

I glanced down at my arm instinctively and fingered the loose gauze around my wrist as I asked, "What do you mean?"

Paul scowled at me, "Bella, it's been four days. What are you waiting for?"

I frowned at him and snapped, "I am well aware of how long it's been. What the hell are you doing here? Checking up on me?"

Paul took in a deep breath and said, "No. I am just here to tell you that you need to go talk to Sam. Like today. It's getting ridiculous…and…fuck, Bella, he's trying to keep it together, but every hour you let pass by is just sending him. I mean…he's keeping it in, but when he phases Bella…"

My heart lurched, beating frantically as I thought of Sam. A lump rose in my throat, "Please, Paul. Don't tell me."

Paul clenched his jaw, "No. You need to know this Bella. You need to know what you've done, and you need to know how fucking selfish you're being right now."

I felt myself snarl as I spat, "Selfish?"

"Yes, selfish, Bella," Paul snarled back. "You sit around here like you're the only one suffering. He is too Bella. Don't you realize this?"

I gaped at him, "Of course I realize this!"

"Then why are you still here? Why are you still sitting around?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, "I'm not ready."

"Not ready?" Paul scoffed. "Then I guess you're not ready to know that Sam is freaking out, blaming himself that he pushed you too hard, that it's all his fault, and can't come to you because you ordered him away and he is just about sure that he never should have told you any of this."

It felt like someone punched me, my air left me in a whoosh and the nausea swooped in after as the thought that Sam regretted me, basically, ran through my head. I turned away from Paul, silent as ever as I tried to ignore the pain that seemed to have grown with intensity at this new knowledge.

Paul was talking again, his tone softer but still hard, "Bella, you hurt him. You made all these promises, and then just took them with you when you left him. I know you ordered him away, but how can you sit here, and just wait? It's up to you to go find him."

I whirled around, hackles raised and ready for battle, "Don't you think I know that? I am well aware of what I've done. I know it's up to me."

"Do you though?" Paul said, cocking his head to the side. "Because the Bella I know, the one that never ever tolerated bull shit, wouldn't be here now. She would be over at Sam's sorting this shit out. She wouldn't be here, that's for sure, feeding everyone and herself bull shit."

I tucked in my trembling lower lip, as I knew he was right, "Are you done?"

Paul ran his hand through his shortly cropped hair and nodded, "I guess."

I nodded then, and was headed back inside when I heard Paul say, "Think of Sam."

I stiffened, my hand still curled around the knob of my front door, and I slowly turned back around, my anger just about at its boiling point.

"What the fuck do you think I have been doing the past few days? Huh? Do you think I have just been sitting around on my ass twiddling my thumbs? I know what I have to do, Paul. I know I am hurting him, okay? But don't you fucking dare insinuate that I haven't thought of him! Because you don't know what the fuck it feels like being scared of yourself! You don't know how it feels knowing that you just broke the promise that meant the world to him, so fuck you!"

Paul stared at me, and murmured, "I'm sorry, I just wanted to help, I didn't know—"

I just clenched my jaw, and said, "You didn't know, but if you could please just leave me be, because I do not need to be counseled on how to handle this cluster fuck."

Paul molds his mouth into a grim line, and I simply turn away, not needing a good bye as I enter my house and shut the door behind me. I march over to my laundry basket, pick it up roughly and walk down the hall, through the kitchen and into the back room.

I set the basket down in front of the clothes machines and I know the anger has left me, but its wake of destruction still remains and the pain that blooms from my heart has intensified, so that I feel pressure when I breathe in, like asthma almost. I stand there and take deep breaths in to the best of my ability but the pain is so much, and it's everywhere all at once that I feel tears leaking from my eyes.

I wipe at my face, and mutter, "Fuck…you are such a bitch imprint."

I laugh at myself, but it's this awful have crying moan jig mixed with a chuckle. I bent down and began to sort my clothes, trying to dedicate my thoughts to making whites and colors pile, but the pain is screaming at me, and it's just too much at this point and it cannot be ignored.

I stumble out of the back room and into the living room with many muttered curse words and grimaces. My mom is there, reading a book and I assume my dad is out fishing. I plop down onto the couch with a pained groan and curl up on my side.

My mother glances up at me and my tear stained face, and says, "Oh, baby…"

I shake my head minutely, and whisper, "It'll pass."

I look at the clock, it reads eight P.M and I shut my eyes. I rest there, still feeling the all consuming pain, and allow sleep to take me.

_

I wake up, the pain being responsible.

It's dark out, very dark and I am alone in the living room. The lights are off and I assume that my mother has put a blanket over me. But it provides little comfort, the pain still present and I instantly know that this has to stop. Nerves regarding seeing Sam be damned, it was time.

I stand, and the pain gets worse. I groan, and glance at the clock, it's eleven thirty. I grimace, and pray that Sam isn't asleep, or worse, on patrol. But I swear to fucking god I will go hunt him down in the forest if I have to because this pain will not be tolerated any longer.

I wander into the kitchen, still blinking away sleep, and grab my mother's car keys off the counter and I scrawl a messy note telling her and dad that I was at Sam's. I couldn't care less if I got in trouble because this needed to stop; I needed to see him, talk to him, and just be with him.

With the cool metal of the car's keys pressed against my hot, sweaty palms I walk out of the house and jog down to the car that's parked in front of the house. I hop in and for a moment I sit there, seatbelt on keys in the ignition and tears running down my face.

My heart is thudding with nerves and it feels like its trying to get out with the force of its thrum. I stare out at La Push, and wonder if he'll be waiting. I wonder if he'll want me back, I wonder if he could even learn to trust me again.

I turn the keys in the ignition with a sob, and begin the long journey home.

The trees of La Push seem to crawl by, and for that I am grateful. It gives me time to collect my thoughts, and prepare myself. I pass Quil's house, and smile slightly thinking back to all the times I spent there. The times I took care of him before he joined the pack. Soon I am passing Paul's house and I know I am close to getting to Sam's, and I hear Paul's words in my mind as I turn up the gravel drive way that leads to Sam.

The slow crunch of the gravel under my tires makes me wince, and the tears start anew, knowing how close I am. The car comes to a slow stop, and my heart is fluttering as fast as ever, and the tears are abundant. I pull the keys out of the ignition, and suck in a deep breath as I slide out of the car.

I lean against the door for a moment, pressing my forehead against the cool pain of the window's glass. I take in a deep breath, and jump when I hear his deep voice, "My bark worse than my bite."

He calls over to me from his front porch steps—where he sits, and I whip my head up in his direction. The pain seems to get worse at the sight of him. I gasp-sob and begin to slowly approach.

My steps are timid and unsure, and I selfishly begin to take Sam in. My memory did not do him justice, and let out another sob at the sight of him in all his glory.

He stands now, and looks at me with pained eyes. I choke on yet another sob and my pace quickens until I find myself standing in front of him, "I-I'm so sor-ry!" My voice is more of a pained wail, and Sam nods, raising his hand to brush a strand of hair behind my ear.

The pain intensifies because he is so close, and it's just not _enough_. But I'm afraid to touch him, to do something wrong again. Sam is looking down at me and before I can stop myself, I whimper, "It hurts."

His muscled arms encircle me, and the pain is absent at the moment. It's like I can feel everything, and it's like I can breathe again. I feel my legs tangled with his, hips pressed to hips, chest to chest, and his lips are pressed to mine.

His lips are hungry and aggressive as they are angry and I am at his mercy. I take it, the rough tugs and sharp nips because this is it. It's all worth it, because it's all clear now. This is worth it. This love is all I need. I don't need all this other shit, all I need is Sam. I can figure out college, I can figure it all out with Sam at my side.

He has some stubble and I feel it with each aggressive wipe of his lips. Soon is tongue is prodding at my lips demanding entrance, I obey and allow him to take control. And soon it's all over.

He pulls away with a pained groan and steps back.

I swallow thickly, and the word spill from my lips, "I'm so sorry, Sam! I-I just…fucked up. I pushed you away, broke all my promises and I am sorry for all that! I just freaked out…I couldn't handle it all. The thing with Jake freaked me out…and then when we fought it all just felt like too much…"

Sam kept his distance, and asked, "And you're saying you can now?"

His hard tone made more tears spill over but I knew that this wasn't going to be easy, "Yes."

Sam took in a deep breath, and I waited for him to speak. "How can I trust that you won't get overwhelmed again and just call it quits?"

I looked down at my feet, "I-I…you can't but I am willing to do anything to prove that I won't do this again."

Sam sighed and said, "Bella…I don't trust you."

My heart broke all over again and the words I was so scared to utter were right on my tongue. I wanted to tell him that I loved him that I needed him, and I knew that, that's how he could know. But in that moment, with his back turned to me, it occurred to me that he may not love me.

My lower lip trembled with this realization and I just stood there. I never thought of it until now and what if he didn't? I certainly couldn't tell him now, I mean, he had no reason to believe them. For all he knew those words were just a ploy to get him to forgive me. So, I kept them in and instead murmured, "I know."

I did know. Or I did now.

"What am I supposed to do?" Sam muttered, and my heart went out to him.

"Whatever feels right?" I said, hoping to be of assistance. I couldn't count the amount of times that Sam had told me those words, telling me to do what felt natural, and I could only hope that it worked for him.

Sam turned back to me, taking a step forward, "What if what feels right is telling you to leave, would you?"

I nodded, "I would."

"What if I felt was right was telling you that I just wanted to be friends was what felt right? Could you do that?" Sam asked, taking another step closer to me.

I trembled slightly, he was so _close_. "Yes."

Sam smirked at me, "Just how far would you go for me?"

I sucked in a deep breath, "As far as it took to make sure you were happy."

Sam arched one of his dark eye brows and questioned, "What if that meant spending your life here in La Push with me?"

"I will." I said, and I knew the words were true.

"I never asked you to." Sam reminded me with raised eye brows.

Blushing I stammered out, "I-I mean I would."

Sam smirked down at me and murmured, "What took you so long?"

I shuddered when I felt his hands grasp at my hips tugging me closer, "I-I don't know. I was afraid."

Sam shook his head, "Of what?"

"Of you. Of how you might feel. Of what you might say."

Sam scowled, "You should have just come and talked to me, Bella. Do you realize how painful it was for me? I had to stay away because you said it made you feel happy."

I let out a small sob, "I was angry…I didn't mean it. I don't mean it. I'm so sorry, Sam."

He sighed, "I'm sure you are."

I frowned up at him, not liking the way he put it. "What do you mean? Don't you believe me when I say I am?"

"How can I?" Sam snapped.

I stepped back as if I had been dealt a physical blow, and Sam took a step forward try to get a grasp on me again. But I just shook my head, "I know I fucked up. But…I can't enter this again wondering if I've earned my forgiveness yet…it won't help matters. I'll just be constantly trying to prove myself, wondering if I am good enough…"

Sam sighed, and stepped back, putting more distance between us.

"Bella how the hell do you suppose we go about this then? If you're not willing to earn forgiveness, then what the hell am I supposed to do?" Sam shouted.

"It's not a matter of not wanting to earn it, Sam! I do, I just told you I would do anything! It's a matter of going into this and not trusting how long you'll hold it over my head!" I screeched.

Sam shook his head, "I can't give you a fucking time limit, Bella! Because I don't know how long it will take for me to trust you again, to forgive you!"

I gave an anguished screech and yelled, "God damn it, Sam!"

I was just so frustrated, how the hell was I going to prove this to him? It was simple to me; I loved him, I needed him, I would never leave him. It was that simple. I wouldn't order him away; I wouldn't shut him out, how could I?

Sam shouted, "Jesus Christ, Bella! How can I trust that you won't leave me again? Or order me away?"

I threw my arms up in the air in exasperation as I yelled, "I love you, okay? I _love_ you. I need you. I can't be without you, and I refuse to be without you, alright? That's your fucking proof."

Silence answered me.

It was in the silence of the night that I realized what I had just said. I clapped my hand over my mouth in surprise. Fuck. I shouldn't have said anything. Oh my lord, he hadn't said anything. _Fuck_.

A sheen of sweat had formed on my brow, and I closed my eyes, burying my face in my hands, "Shit…sorry."

It was still quiet, and I could here my voice, hear the words that I said. Oh. My. God. I had no filter what's so ever and I couldn't believe I had actually said that. A ball of frayed nerves was choking me, and I let out a strained sound of pain.

I feel his hot palms pull my hands away from my face with no effort, but I keep my eyes downcast.

"You love me?" Sam says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.

I just nod my head.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Sam whispers conspiratorially in my ear. "I believe you."

I looked up at him, my lashes damp with my unshed tears as I ask, "About what?"

He smiles for once, actually smiles at me and replies, "I believe you when you say that you love me…and I can only hope that you mean the rest."

I nod my head again and he sighs, "Bells, it's one thirty in the morning, and we're both tired. We can sort the rest out in the morning."

Sniffling I pull away, headed for my car but I am stopped by a firm hand around my wrist.

"Where do you think you're going?" Sam asks.

"Home?"

"You are home, babe. I just got you back, do you really think I am going to let you go so easily so soon?" Sam smirks.

I wipe a lingering tear, and shyly grasp his hand saying, "Okay."

He links our hands together, kissing the back of mine and leading us into his house. I climb the porch steps sluggishly, and by the time we make it to his bedroom I am just about ready to pass out.

He looks down at me and mumbles, "I can sleep on the couch if you want."

I chuckle and say, "Sam, it's fine, all I need is something to sleep in."

Sam nods, "Right."

I lets go of my hand momentarily and the pain is back, but it's a mild thrum, so I ignore it. He gives me a black shirt, and slips past me into the washroom where I assume he is going to change.

I peel off my clothes and slip into his shirt, leaving my under garments on. His shirt swallows me, reaching mid thigh and I am once again reminded of how much bigger he is than me.

I stand there and stare at his plain bed. There aren't many sheets, just a thin blanket, and I smirk. Sam doesn't really need sheets. Him being a space heater and what not. I laugh inwardly, but it turns into this coked chortle when Sam comes out.

He is wearing some flannel pains, and no shirt.

He smirks, and my heart flutters.

He walks over to the bed settling down in it, patting the spot next to him. I amble over and sink down onto the mattress next to him. He is lying down, and wraps one of his toned arms around my waist, tugging me down and into him.

I lay there, and I have never felt more comfortable in my life. With his warm soft but firm pectoral muscle acting as my pillow, and my legs curled around his left, and his arm rubbing circles across my back. I sigh contentedly, and snuggle in further.

It doesn't escape my notice as he brushes through the strands of my hair that he hasn't said 'I love you' back, but I try not to let it bother me. If I am patient, and wait, I hope that he can grow to trust me, and maybe even love me back.

It also doesn't escape my notice that I left my home in the middle of the night to sleep over at Sam's and that I will probably be in a hit load of trouble when I get home tomorrow morning.

But it didn't matter. Sam was worth it.

"Sam?" I whispered into the darkness of his room.

"Yes?"

"Thanks for everything…even though I totally don't deserve it."

"You're welcome. You do deserve it, I know you do…just prove it."

I chuckle and whisper again, "Thanks for letting me sleep over."

Sam laughs and says, "No problem. Now hush, as much as I missed you, I want to sleep."

I nod, and close my eyes listening to the strong thrum of Sam's heart. We stay like that for a while, and before I can stop myself I whisper out, "I missed you too, Sam."

Sam groans, and I laugh.

"Bells, it's sleep-time. I missed you a lot, but I really want to sleep."

I giggle again, and ask, "Sam?"

"What?"

"Can I have a good-night kiss?"

My answer comes swiftly when he tilts my chin up and kisses me. I enjoy the feeling of his warm, soft lips against my own, and moan quietly. He smirks and whispers against my lips, "Good night, Bells."

"Good night, Sam."

With that, I closed my eyes, and knew that I was a very lucky girl. Sam had taken me back even when I didn't deserve it, but he did, none the less. And I loved him so much for it. So, with sleep tugging at me, I submitted and let myself get lost in my world.

**A/N: Hopefully no one was disappointed by the reunion, and what not. Next chapter will include a more in depth talk about what exactly happened and what the underlying causes of the fight and all that jazz. Hopefully everyone enjoyed this, I thought I executed it pretty well based on the feed back that I got from the last chapter.**

**The playlist for this chapter is pretty short…**

**Chapter Play List:**

**Will he be waiting for me—Sarah Harmer**

**Runaway—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Possibility—Anya Marina**

**Two Left Feet—Anya Marina**

**Bruises—Chair Lift**

**Lovesick—Anya Marina**

**Please, please, please, review!!!**

**That's it for now…but I have another question for all of you…if you had been Sam, would you have taken her back so easily? Would you have been able to? **


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Greetings readers. **

**Thanks to all who reviewed my last chapter, it was greatly appreciated. For all who added me to one of their Alerts or Favorites, I am appreciative of that as well. **

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and please, please, please, review!**

**I leave you all to read and (hopefully) enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: All goes to S.M. I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Boarders**

**Chapter 21: I feel it all**

I had always valued honesty, contrary to how I have been acting over the past couple of days. I admired those who could deliver it consistently, but then again, that really never did happen, did it? Everybody has those little white lies, those skeletons packed away in the closet, those little things they kept to themselves. It was true though. As sad as it was, we all had those things that we kept to ourselves that we refused to share. I knew I had them. Hell, Sam's lack of knowledge about me was a testament to that. I felt guilty that he didn't know much about me and yet I knew everything about him. I loved him.

That was another thing. I loved him. I had always mocked those girls who fell head over heels into their lover's embrace. I never understood really what it meant to love someone. Sure I loved my parents, I loved my friends, but my love for Sam was much different. I was _in_ love with him. I know it sounds corny and so mundane, but it was the truth.

Never did I think loving someone meant giving yourself over completely, discovering parts of yourself that you never knew existed. That was one of the things that I was struggling with. Was I discovering or transforming? Had I lost sight of who I was? Or was I just beginning to see?

I didn't know, and that was absolutely horrifying.

I didn't think that I had lost myself and had become that lovesick fool. Then again, I didn't really _know_ anything. When Paul criticized me yesterday, talking about the Bella he knew, I didn't really catch it. But I had now. Between all the craziness with making up with Sam and all the imprint jazz, I wasn't exactly in the best move for observation.

But I didn't think I was becoming someone else. I mean, with all the guys, Quil and Paul and Embry, and even Jared, I was still my usual self. It was with Sam that things changed. Everything changed with Sam. With Sam I had to think of him, think of us. I had to monitor myself, and make sure that I was in check. Was that even healthy? I didn't think so, but relationships were about compromise, right?

_You shouldn't have to compromise who you are,_ I thought.

But at the same time I wasn't compromising who I was. I mean, with Sam everything was so _new_. Being in love, exploring our relationship, and just how we interacted was new. But at the same time it didn't mean _I_ was new.

This was way too confusing.

All I knew was that I was happy. Deliriously happy, and I liked it. It was the first time I had been _happy_. It was the first time where someone was willing to be what I had been for Jake, for Quil, and knowing that Sam was that person for me made me smile. I liked knowing that I could rely on him to wipe away my tears and be able to handle me. I know that now.

Before that thought had seemed so overwhelming, so threatening. That's why I had freaked. I have never been more ashamed in my life. I had hurt Sam all because of my stupid fears and inability to communicate them.

I knew that I had made a monumental mistake, one that would require much repair to fix. I didn't know how badly I had messed up beyond my own scope, maybe it was worse, and maybe it was less. I didn't know, I mean, last night all Sam and I had done was basically acknowledge that we had some shit to deal with, but it was more important to recognize that, yes, we still wanted each other.

As I laid there on Sam's bed, lying on my side, just staring at him, I couldn't help but realize just how stupid I had been. I had hurt this beautiful man before me, just because my selfish fears got the better. I reached out with a timid hand and brushed some of the hair out of his shut lids, and smiled, thinking of how lucky I was.

His face was clear, the signs of his anger and hurt, gone, invisible in the morning light. I swallowed thickly, feeling the nerves rise up and choke me. Sam had said we were going to talk this morning, actually sort things out and I hoped that it went alright. I wasn't naïve to think that we would be having a calm discussion, I was sure there would be lots of yelling and maybe even some tears.

I sigh, and wriggle out of the hold he has on me. His arm was wrapped around my waist rather tightly, and with some expert maneuvers I was out. I stood, the cool morning air hitting my bare legs and I shivered in response.

With a backward glance I slipped out of Sam's room and into the hall. I tip toed my way down to the kitchen trying to be quiet as possible. I found his phone that was located on the kitchen wall and took it off the receiver. I dialed my home number, hoping and praying it was my mother to answer the phone.

"Bella?" My mother demanded, and I could hear both the worry and the anger.

"Yeah," I whisper. "I am so sorry for taking off like that, but it hurt so much…and I just had to go to him, Mom. I couldn't wait another minute."

My mother answers with a sigh.

"I really am sorry, Mom, nothing happened. We just…I don't really know what happened. All I know is that we still want to be together, and figure it all out."

"I understand, but taking off in the middle of the night…Bella, that was just plain irresponsible. You have to be more aware, and ultimately careful. Bella, I won't punish you, I think what you've put yourself through is more than enough, and I am sure what you're going to be put through today will make you learn your lesson, but if you ever, _ever_, do something like that again, there will be sever consequences."

I take my mother's scolding, knowing that she's right. I am about to reply when I hear the sound of someone coming down the stairs makes me freeze. He was awake. I worry my lower lip and murmur into the receiver, "I'm sorry, Mom. I won't let it happen again. I don't really know when I'll be home, but I will let you know when I do."

"Alright, be gentle, Bella. I love you." My mother replies.

I nod, "I will. I love you too."

I hang up, and know that Sam is here. My heart is thudding and the feeling you get when someone is watching you is right there with me, all over my skin. I feel compelled to turn around and meet his gaze, and it is with my I heart in my throat that turn to face him.

He is till in the flannels, and I allow my eyes to absorb the sight I had been missing for the past four days. His chest was just as glorious, and I couldn't help but want to see if it was just as hot and toned as it had been the last time I had been allowed to touch it. Finally I take in his face, that sexy firm jaw line—which currently had a dusting of stubble, his cheek bones and his full pouty lips are just as irresistible. His eyes, which are still clouded with sleep, are visible through the disarray of his hair.

We stand there for a moment, taking each other in, taking it all in.

It is awkward to put it lightly. In the morning light, everything is right there with us. The words that have been said seem whirl around in my head, making everything feel even tenser. I worry my lower lip, nibbling on it as I try to think of some sort of greeting, but nothing seems appropriate. I mean, what can I say to him when everything is so unclear.

I stand there for a moment, trembling and finally Sam breaks the silence, "What do you want for breakfast?"

I smile weakly at him, and I can't help but think that it was so typical of Sam—food first, emotional onslaught later. I chuckled inwardly, and ask, "What is there?"

Sam looks at me with raised eye brows, "Anything you want, Bella. You do realize who you're talking to right? When it comes to food, what wouldn't I have to eat?"

I laugh timidly, trying to release some of the tension in my muscles. Sam is going about this in the practical way, try and just get through breakfast, wake up, and then deal with all of the shit. So, I would let him lead the way.

"Hmm…how about, simple bacon and eggs?" I ask, summoning some confidence. I was done being timid and shy, I had learned that it didn't work, and I had a funny feeling that the only way to get through today was to stop being such a pussy.

Sam nodded and turned away, pulling out all the things he needed. I walked over, and sat down on one of the stools that were lined up along the counter. I sat there in complete silence, just watching Sam move about the kitchen. He made our breakfast with great ease, moving gracefully and swiftly around the kitchen.

The food was ready shortly after, and we ate in silence, the only sounds being the utensils scraping against the plated, and the crunch of food being eaten. It was still kind of tense, more so awkward but I refused to let it get to me.

I wasn't going to revert back to that shy little shit that pushed Sam away, I wasn't going be soft as baby shit and let go of my back bone. So, I ate like I normally would have and just ignored the tense atmosphere. Sure, it was a bit hard, you know, seeing as that was all I could think about. But I was not going to be intimidated.

I could do this, I was Bella Swan, imprint of Sam Uley, and I was not going to bow down. I would be strong, I _was_ strong. I was tired of being all whiny and pathetic, tired of trying mold into what I thought an imprint was, when in reality, I had no idea what it was.

I was munching on a piece of toast, staring off into space—absorbed in my thoughts—when I saw Sam's large hand slowly trying to latch onto a peeve of lone bacon. Without even thinking my hand came down quickly and effortlessly, meeting his with a _thwack_ and immediately Sam's hand recoiled.

I glanced at him from my peripherals, and he was smiling sheepishly.

"What is it with you and eating off my plate?" I asked around a mouthful of toast.

"I'm hungry, and you never finish anyway."

"Oh, really? Well, I believe this date should be marked down then, because, I, Bella Swan will be finishing her entire plate." I taunted, picking up the slice of bacon and chomping it in half, finishing its other half shortly after.

Sam just shook his head in silent laughter and took both our plated over to the sink. I was provided with a perfect view of his muscled back, and watched with devouring eyes as he rinsed the dishes and put them in the dish washer.

He turned around, and leaned against the counter, wiping his hands on a towel, and said, "Bella…"

"I know." I cut him off.

I took in a deep breath, and listened as he cleared his throat nervously, "What happened?"

It was blunt and to the point, and I nearly laughed at it all. Sam had never been one for subtly.

"That's a loaded question." I remarked dryly.

"Bella." Sam warned in that Alpha voice.

I rolled my eyes and huffed, "Okay, okay."

Sam raised his eye brows, silently ordering me to fess up.

"Let's just take this back, okay? Like _way_ back, back to when you were Sam Uley the cop who ruined all my Friday nights?"

Sam nodded, a frown of concentration firmly in place.

I took in a deep breath, and let it all out, "Back then, my life was way less complicated, as you can imagine. All knew was that I wanted out; I wanted to leave La Push, get away and never come back. You have to understand that this was my driving force, that this was what kept me going. I had a goal. We all did. Jake, Quil and I had a plan. We were going to graduate and go to University, and just stay away."

Sam had a worried look about him, and I rambled on wanting him to understand this clearly, and how this all related to what had happened.

"To me, La Push was suffocating. It offered me nothing, and held absolutely no appeal. I didn't see anything that would make me happy. Then, _you_ happened. Up until that first moment, I just thought that you were a tight ass cop that had no life. But then, when I was forced to be around you, and everything changed. God, Sam…I was so confused, I didn't know what was going on…all I knew was that all of a sudden you were more than just that cop. And then I started to change, and my whole world started to change, and I couldn't handle it. I felt like I was being pulled between two worlds…mine, and yours.

"But I knew I didn't really have a choice, you know? I mean, between all the reactions I had to you, I knew I didn't have one. So, as angry as I was, and surprised, I guess I always kind of knew that Quil and Jake would be next. But when it happened, I was so angry, so hurt, because it felt like you were changing everything, like you were ruining it all. We had plans, and they were all gone. And then, you told me."

Sam was still leaning against the skink opposite me, eyes wide, and rather shocked. I don't think he ever knew just how badly I wanted out of here. But regardless of his shock I continued, picking at a loose thread hanging off the hem of his t-shirt that I was wearing.

"When I found out about everything, I was overwhelmed. I didn't want to be an imprint. I didn't want to have to stay here all my life. And before you interrupt, I know that is what will happen. You're Alpha, and you're in the police force, you are laying out the fundamentals for a life, _our_ life. But at the time, I was angrier than anything. All I could think of was all the plans I made, and they were just gone. Irrelevant. But the more I adjusted to the idea, the more I fell for you, I knew I could deal. So I started to try and be what I thought an imprint was, and I made all those promises…

"But then I got into that fight with Jake, and I got hurt…and it was clear then. I never really grasped it until then. You are a werewolf, you could hurt me if I said something wrong, got you too angry, and you wouldn't be able to stop yourself. That thought alone is scary, but not as scary as the realization that I love you. To me, that just gave you more power, gives you more power. As if the imprint bond wasn't enough. I got scared, and I just couldn't deal with it all. It felt too great, too big for me. So that's why…this happened."

I finally finished, my head bowed and I could only hope that he might understand. I knew my reasons were less than normal, and probably uneasy to understand, but they were my reasons none the less.

Sam was silent and I was holding my breath. I wanted to give him time to absorb, time to think about it, but at the same time a ball of anxiety was forming in my stomach making me feel sick. I rested my face in my hands, and tried to keep the snarky comments at bay. The last things I needed to go and do was make a comment and stir this shit up real nicely.

"I understand that this is hard for you, or has been hard for you, but what I am most angry and most concerned about is the fact that you didn't talk to me about this." Sam stated calmly.

I took in a deep breath, "Sam, I didn't talk to you about all of this because I _couldn't_. I feel like I hold your whole world in my hands and one thing done carelessly could destroy it all. How was I supposed to talk to you about all of this, about having fears and doubts, and wants that take me far from La Push, when it would destroy you, _us_?"

Sam clenched his jaw, "Who said that it would destroy me, or us?"

I bit my lip, and stammered, "I-I don't know. I mean, I feel responsible for your happiness. The way the imprint works, it makes me feel that way."

Sam nodded, "It does. But Bells, I am stronger than that. We are stronger than that. How could you make such an assumption? God, Bella, all you've done is made assumptions! No wonder we're here."

I scowled and snapped, "Well it's not like I had much else to go on, now did I?"

Sam just looked at me with his mouth hanging open, "You never asked! I was trying to spoon feed you the information! You didn't seem like you could handle anything too big!"

"What the hell made you think I could not handle this?"

"Hmmm…let me think," Sam drawled sarcastically. "Last night? All the times you pushed me away?"

I clenched my jaw, "You know that's different! I can handle it!"

Sam raised his eye brows, scoffing, "Oh, really? So you think you can handle knowing that, yes, you will have to live in La Push for the rest of your life. Or how about the fact that I go through mating season? Or how about the fact that I feel the need to mate with you now, so I can mark you as mine? Can you handle all of that? Can you handle a life with me? With a _werewolf_, Isabella?"

I clenched my jaw and stood, trying to muster everything within my small frame to convince him, "Yes! Yes I can!"

"Yeah well sure as hell have a funny way of showing it!" Sam spat.

"Fuck you! I explained why all this shit went down! Are you going to throw this in my face every chance you get?"

Sam growled, "No!"

We both stood there, having unconsciously migrated closer until there was only about two feet between us. I was fuming, my anger strong and not ready to be let go. I could handle this, I knew I could, why didn't he see that?

"Listen," I said calmly, running a hand through my hair. "I am so fucking sorry for what I have done, but I can't undo it. All I can do is try my hardest to make sure it never happens again. It sounds like there has been a complete miscommunication and it sounds like we need to talk about the future, for it seems to be the biggest thing we are fighting over."

Sam nodded, mumbling, "Sorry, I just—"

I just held up my hand, "Don't, Sam. We are both at fault, and we both have recognized that, there is no point and exhausting this issue any further."

Sam nodded before sighing.

"What's wrong?" I ask, knowing that there was more to his sigh. It was stupid to ask now, I mean after our little fight, but, I somehow knew that he was upset about something different.

"I-I know it sounds weird, but, Bells, I haven't been able to touch you for the past four days…" He trailed off, his fingers fidgeting.

"Oh." _Oh_.

I was still kind of miffed at what had happened, but I had no reason to be. So I reached out ad grabbed Sam's hand, leading him into the living room and I looked at him.

"Well?" I urged, I mean, I assumed he meant that he wanted some contact. He looked at me sheepishly before letting go of me, and sitting down on the couch. I stood there, knowing he had something in mind.

He grasped me by the hips and brought me down onto his lap. I was kind of awkwardly straddling him, but it was alright because the contact just felt so good, and so right. I had missed it.

I sat there for a moment before murmuring, "I really am sorry, you know."

Sam nods as he runs hands down my thighs, along the sides of my calves and back up again. I shiver at his hot touch, still not used to it. Sam takes no notice, and rumbles out, "I know you are."

I look up at him and whisper, "I know I don't deserve you, to be taken back, but I will do anything to make it up to you."

"How about you stop apologizing?" Sam smirked.

I paled and bowed my head.

"Hey…" He said softly, letting it trail off.

I looked up and said, "I know it's annoying but what else can I do?"

Sam nodded, stopping his circulation root of rubbing my legs to cup my cheek, "Talk about the future, what you want for yourself, and how we can make it work."

I nod, and blurt out, "I want to get an education after high school, possibly attend University."

Sam looked at me with raised eye brows.

"Okay," I said. "I want to go to University."

Sam smiles at me and says, "You don't have to hold back, Bells. That's what got us here, we need to be honest."

I smile at him and brush some hair out of his eyes. My finger tips trail lightly across his face, along his jaw line, and I find myself leaning in unconsciously.

"May I?" I whisper, a breath away from his lips.

Sam brings his hand up to cup the back of my head, and draws me in. Our lips meet, and I nearly die because I forgot how good it feels. His lips are so soft, giving as they move against mine. The heat is so pleasurable against my lips that I moan a little. Sam smirks against my lips before sliding his tongue along the seam of them. I open my mouth a little bit, enough to worry his lower lip.

Sam guides my head to deepen the kiss, his once gentle hands fist my hair, and I groan, scooting closer. Sam growls low in his chest, hissing when my own hands tug at his inky waves.

"Wait, wait, wait…" I murmur against his lips, and pull away breathlessly. "We need to talk about…about the future."

Sam groans and lets his hands slide out from my hair and onto my hips, finding purchase there. I rest my forehead against his, and gather myself, catching my breath in short pants.

"Do you know what you want to be?" Sam asks, staring me in the eye.

I pull back a little, but I am still close enough to play with the hairs that lay at the nape of his neck. I frown, and cock my head to the side, "I don't really know. I mean sure I like reading, but I can't really write anything. I hate math and science just bores me. I like English though."

Sam looks shocked for a moment, and gasps dramatically, "Bella Swan reads! Gasp!"

I scowl and playfully slap him on the chest, "Hey! I have interests that go beyond the bottom of a bottle!"

Sam laughs and says, "Well, you like to bake, don't you?"

I snort and say, "Yeah, because _I_ could make a career out of baking."

"You never know!"

"Sam," I sigh. "Could you see me serving other people, and not loosing customers for my snarky attitude?"

Sam laughed and said, "You do the baking and someone else can serve?"

I laugh freely with him, and sigh, "Maybe."

Sam sobered and said, "Bella whatever you want to do, we'll make it work. If you want to go to University, you'll go. We can find the happy medium. But the only thing I want to know is if you'll be happy with coming back here at the end of the day? Staying in La Push?"

I smooth down the hair at the nape of his neck and cup his cheeks, "I will be happy, because you'll be here."

He smiles weakly at me, and murmurs sadly, "I've heard those words before."

I frown at him, pained; it hurt to know that I had done this. I knew it was going to take a while but I just couldn't believe that the damage went that deep. I knew that his confidence in me would slowly return, but it was horrible to see him so insecure.

With my hands still cupping his cheeks I whisper, "You make me so happy. I have never been this happy in my whole life, and I will always be happy with you. I might not be happy all day, every day for the rest of our life, but I will always be happy to be with you. I love you, Sam."

I looked him straight in the eyes as I said this, and he nodded slightly. I could tell that he wanted to believe me, believe everything I was telling him, but he still looked unsure. It broke my heart, but I knew I had no one to blame but myself. I would take it, and wait for Sam to trust me again, to believe me.

"I want to believe you; I really do, but…" Sam says, looking frustrated, but I understand.

"I know, it's okay, Sam." I murmur, and lay a soft kiss on his forehead.

Sam pulled me closer to him, encasing me with his toned arms. A thrill of pleasure ran through me at our closeness, and I nuzzled the space between his neck and shoulder. We remained that way, just enjoying each others company, but more so recovering from our long separation.

I didn't know how long we stayed like that, but it didn't matter. I was back in his arms, and nothing was more important. It was in that moment that I knew that I hadn't lost myself. I knew I was okay, I knew that I wasn't loosing anything, but gaining so much more.

__

After bonding on the couch for a while we separated, and I was now currently waiting for my turn in the shower. So you can imagine the thoughts running through my head. Sam, in the shower—naked, with water running all over him…along his chest, I could see it now…

I blinked, and pushed the thoughts away. Thankfully I heard the water stop and I waited with my clothes clutched between my hands. I was anxious, wanting to see Sam. He stepped out, towel drying his hair, in only a pair of jeans that hung low on his hips.

I stared at him openly, his toned body absolutely tempting. I bit my lower lip, and let my eyes drag up his beautiful chest—that wasn't hairy, ironically enough; the only hairs present were the ones that made up his 'treasure-trail'. I met his eyes which were dancing with satisfaction, his smug smirk indication I had been caught.

I gulped, and got up on unsteady legs. I walked over as if my legs didn't feel like jelly, and there wasn't any tension in my lower abdomen. Sam was still standing by the door of the shower, his arm braced against the doorway so I couldn't get through.

I huffed impatiently, and tried not to moan at the smell of him. He smelled like rain, the forest, and soap. I licked my dry lips, and cleared my throat, "Do you mind?"

Sam smirked, and said, "Nope. But you do realize you have to pay to use my shower?"

I raised my eyebrows and pursed my lips, "Oh, really?"

Sam nods, and I step a bit closer, placing a hand on his hip, "And just what would it be?"

"Oh, I don't know, it might be a little too expensive for you."

"Hmm…try me."

Sam's eyes flick down to my lips and in a rough, deep voice, he says, "I think I will."

My eyes flutter closed, and his heated mouth meets mine with a groan. He presses me to him, and I moan a little. The heat is everywhere; my lips melting and becoming more and more giving as he nudges them with his own, nipping at them with his teeth. He soothes the little bites with a swipe of his tongue, and I slide my hands up his smooth chest and I grasp at his shoulders.

His tongue slides easily into my mouth, dominant and demanding as he explores. I battle for dominance, but soon give up, allowing him free reign. His rough calloused hand slides upward so that it is just below my right breast. I pull away gasping for air, and Sam turns his attention to my jaw.

I don't know when it happened but I realize I ham pressed up against the bathroom doorway. My hands are lodged in his hair, tugging at his strands. His hot lips nibble at the corner of my jaw, and I bite my lower lip, tucking it in as to not all any sound to come out.

Sam groans when I scrape my nails against his scalp, and with the help of his firm hands my legs are securely wrapped around his waist. I groan when I feel something very hard against me, and the throbbing between my legs intensifies, making me whimper, "Sam."

His lips return to my mouth, and my sounds of pained pleasure are muted. I buck my hips forward, trying to get some friction and Sam growls into my mouth. I shudder, gasping for breath as I throw my head back.

It slams against the door frame, but I pay no mind.

The sound of my head slamming against the door way seems to get to Sam, and he begins to slow his fevered kisses, his touches lessening in their aggressive nature, and eventually he pulls away, laughing breathlessly, "I think that your toll has been paid."

I laugh with him, trying to ignore the throb between my legs, "And you said it was expensive!"

Sam relinquishes his old on me, allowing me legs to fall, and this action causes me to brush against his boner, and we both moan at the contact. The rough zipper against me through my panties makes me want to wrap my legs back around his waist, but I refrain and lean against the door frame for a moment.

Sam smoothes down my hair and says, "Sorry, I got a bit carried away there."

"Did it look like I was complaining?"

"It certainly didn't sound like you were." Sam replies back smoothly, with a sexy smirk.

I smirk back, and press up against him, "It feels like you were enjoying yourself as well, Officer."

Sam groans, "Do not call me that, it's dangerous."

I chuckle and run a hand up down his chest, dangerously close to the stiff boner that had been oh so very close just a few moments ago, "Well, well, well, I think we've discovered a fantasy, Samuel."

I am not going to lie, it's hot. Hand cuffs and Sam in uniform, yummy. I lick my dry lips, feeling my heart thud against my chest as Sam turns the tables, pressing me back up against the door frame, and he growls, "Don't be a tease."

My heart thuds faster and I bravely run a finger across the expanse between his hip bones back and forth. I look up at him through hooded lids, and he is close when I murmur, "Who says I am teasing?"

Sam groans, "Please don't be."

My hand freezes, and for a moment I wonder if I am actually prepared to get him off. I take in a deep breath and hook two of my fingers into his jeans a long the waist, and I whisper, "You have to show me how."

Sam's eyes go wide, and he stutters, "Bells, baby, you don't have to…"

I lean up and press my lips against his, quieting him. I pull back a little and whisper against his hot mouth, "Sam, I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to…just show me what to do."

Sam nods, and I, taking it as permission, pop the button of his jeans open. I slide the zipper down, careful, and it is then that I note something. Sam isn't wearing any underwear. God, that's hot. Sam moans a little, and suddenly I am nervous. What if I am no good at it? Well, it's my first hand job, so, I can't expect much.

I watch as my hand enters his pants, trembling lightly. I wrap my hand around his penis and I instantly know he is big. Oh my goodness, he's fucking huge. Is there anything small about this man? I guess not, as my fingers don't even meet.

Sam let's out a guttural grunt of pleasure, and I look up, fascinated. His face is a look of both pleasure and pain and I whisper, "Sam, I…I don't know what to do."

Sam releases his breath, and wraps his own hand around mine. He slowly guides my hand up and down, and applies a little bit more pressure. I bite my lip, and a surge of panic rushes through me when he let's my hand go, huskily murmuring, "Just keep doing it like that."

I nod my head, and pump my fist up and down the length. Sam growl-groans when I flick my thumb over the head. It's a little wet there already, and I rub the sensitive head again before using what I assumed to be pre-jizz as lubrication.

It's so hot, and stiff, and I am in awe. Sam let's out a growl as I squeeze a little, and he pants, "Faster."

I do as I am told and start making fast strokes. It is moments later that Sam growls, "_Fuck_…Bells…I'm gunna cum."

A bubble of pride swells up in me at the thought that I am giving him this pleasure. He groans and sure enough, bucking into my hand a couple times, he releases himself in hot spurts. My hand is partly covered in jizz, and it's warm. I my hand out, and inspect it.

As I stare, I sniff, and it isn't the most pleasurable smell. But still, I feel this urge to taste it. I mean, am I a 'spit' or 'swallow' girl? So without even thinking my tongue flicks out and tastes Sam's cum. My face scrunches up, and I don't really know. I mean, it doesn't taste great, but it's not the most disgusting thing ever.

Sam watches this and groans, and I smile before glancing to the side. I see Kleenex and I reach over, grabbing a few slips, first wiping my hand off. I then make a move to clean Sam up, but he warns in that husky voice—that makes my panties wetter than they already are—of his, "Gentle."

I nod, and proceed to wipe all the jizz off. Sam sighs, and I walk over to where the waste bin is in the bathroom, tossing the sticky sheets into it. I turn around and Sam is right there.

He kisses me, once, twice, and murmurs, "Thank you."

I smile against his lips and say, "No thanks needed."

Sam pulls away and asks, "Do you want me to…"

I freeze, and I instantly know that he is asking if I want him to reciprocate. Did I? I was turned on, and my vagina was throbbing with an intense beat that made me rub my thighs together, but at the same time I didn't want him to feel as though he _had_ to.

Sam looks at me with a smirk, and says, "I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to."

My words, once again being used against me, and I blush.

"I-if you want to…I mean, I don't want you to do it just because—"

Sam silences me with his lips, backing me up against the vanity. He smirks against my lips and says, "Babe, I'd be more than happy to."

I nod, "Alright."

Sam leans back into kiss me, and picks me up so that I am sitting on the very edge of the vanity's counter. I moan into his mouth when I feel his hot hands on my thighs. They are nowhere near where I want them, but the heat of them makes me wonder how they would feel in or on other places. Sam smirks against my lips, and as he runs his warm hands up my thighs, I bring them closer together—out of nerves.

Sam pulls away, and murmurs in a gravelly voice, "Relax, Bells."

I do, melting a little, and take in a deep breath, allowing my thighs to fall open naturally. "That's it, babe." Sam sighs, and tugs at the hem of my shirt—his shirt, pushing it up my thighs. He wraps his hands around my hips, and the coil in my lower abdomen tightens in anticipation.

He hooks his fingers into my underwear and glances upward, meeting my eyes, asking silent permission. I nod, biting my lower lip as I lift myself up a bit, making it easier for him as he slides my black panties off.

Sam starts rubbing my thighs again, explaining, "It'll make it easier."

I simply nod, and hold my breath in anticipation. His strokes are more daring this time, sliding inward with each swipe, and soon he is close. I groan in frustration and Sam pulls me closer, so that I am basically balancing on the edge of the vanity.

He touches me there. His hot finger making gentle swipes along my wet lower lips. I feel my eyes flutter close, but they are wide open when I feel his warm thumb find my clit, making light circles around it.

"Oh, God…Sam…" I moan.

I bite my lower lip, feeling like crying out. His thumb is so warm, so rough but absolutely fucking divine against my clit. I almost can't handle it—the pressure between my thighs has grown, throbbing and the coiled pleasure in my lower abdomen seems to contract with each pass of his thumb.

But the almost painful pleasure gets worse, or better, as he keeps his thumb pressed against my clit and begins to circle my entrance. I gasp, my thighs clamping together as if by there own volition.

"Easy there, Bells." Sam coaxes as he pries my thighs apart with his other hand. I nod and clench my eyes closed, I just can't fucking help it.

I gasp for air, and all of a sudden I am being stretched. Sam gently strokes my inner walls, and I let out this god-awful moan that has Sam smirking smugly. I allow my eyes to close, and it is only now that I notice that I am tightly gripping Sam's shoulders.

I loosen my grip, only to cry out and tighten it when I feel him add another finger. It feels so god damn good, and all the pressure is mounting, swelling up inside me, the coil in my lower abdomen is wound so tightly it is nearly painful.

He pumps his fingers in out faster, harder, and applies more pressure to my clit. I groan painfully, "Oh, fuck, Sam…"

I feel my inner walls clench slightly, and Sam groans, "You're so tight."

I just moan, and clench my eyes shut, the pleasure too much. Sam as if having sensed how close I am moves even faster, flicking my clit a little more roughly.

I moan loudly, again.

Sam, using his Alpha voice, commands, "That's it, baby, cum for me."

And I do. With one final swipe against my clit Sam has me flying off the edge, the pressure I had been feeling gone, and I shudder as my orgasm rips through me. Sam gently slips his fingers out and asks, "Okay?"

I nod and watch with curious eyes as Sam brings his fingers up to his lips for a taste. His tongue slips out, tasting, well, tasting me. Sam hums in appreciation, waggling his eyebrows, "Tasty."

I chuckle, still trying to catch my breath.

Once I have calmed down I lean into him, and say, "Thanks."

He laughs and places a kiss upon the crown of my head.

"Sam, I could really use a shower, so, would you, uh, mind?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Sam pulls away, pecking me on the lips. "I'll be in the kitchen."

I laugh and watch him go. I hop off the vanity's counter top and turn to look myself in the mirror. My hair is all over the place, and my cheeks are flushed, my lips swollen, but I don't mind. The girl I see in the mirror and it's not just because she just had an orgasm. As I look at myself, I know I am happy, I know that everything I had said to Sam earlier was true.

When I told him that I would be happy here, because of him, I wasn't lying. I meant it with everything I had, and everything I wanted to be. I would be happy, I knew that now. I knew Sam and I would figure our future out, and I had faith in us.

I smiled to myself and knew that my life with Sam was just beginning, and I knew that it was going to be good. Like I had said earlier, we may not be happy together all day, every day, but we would be happy. I just knew it.

**A/N: That is another chapter up…with a whole lot of citrus. I hope you all enjoyed it. Please let me know. The lack of response to my last update was rather discouraging, and I hope for a little more motivation this time. **

**So, if you could review, please do. If not, well, I hope you enjoyed none the less. **

**The play list for this chapter**

**I feel it all—Feist**

**Inevitable—Anberlin **

**So sorry—Feist **

**I hope you enjoyed this, and please, please, please, review!**

**Laters!**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:**

**Boarders **

**Chapter 22: We Can Dance**

Summer was over in exactly four minutes. My nights in Sam's cruiser would come to an end, and I wouldn't be patrolling the neighborhood any longer. Part of me wanted to freeze us in this time—forever summer. That would be the ideal. But I knew that senior was coming regardless of what I really wanted.

As I stared up at my ceiling, I couldn't help but feel mildly anxious. I knew that I shouldn't be, it was just another 'first-day-of-school'. But I knew that I was entering those doors, walking down those familiar hallways as a changed, more knowledgeable person. I would walk into that school knowing the great secret that tied our community together.

But the more pressing notion was that I was walking in there with only the Pack, minus one member. Jacob. I am sure he would be there, but our last encounter wasn't the greatest. I knew it would be awkward as hell, and just hoped that he could keep himself under control. The last thing we all needed was for him to phase in the school's cafeteria.

Sam had told me to stay home today, or tonight. He wanted me to forgo my planned patrol with him as it was the night before school. So I had turned my finished essay over to him on alcohol and the youths of today. He smirked as he took it from me, and I couldn't help but feel that my night of arrest was a lifetime ago.

It was startling how much had changed since then. Had you told me that I would loose all my friends only to gain them back because I was tied to their Alpha wolf, I would have asked you what you were smoking and if I could have some?

Things had changed, and I found it safe to say that I had changed, mildly, but for the better. I owed my thanks to Sam for that, and event though that thought once evoked fear, it doesn't anymore.

But I was afraid for tomorrow. I was afraid to go in their alone, because I had never felt more alone. I felt so abnormal, I mean, at seventeen I had found my soul mate, and he was a werewolf. It wasn't upsetting, not at all—I loved said werewolf, it was just something I had to learn to adjust to.

I was embarking on my senior year tomorrow. My _senior_ year.

But it wouldn't be how I had envisioned it. Ever since I was old enough to realize that La Push was an arm pit of a town I had begun to make a plan, to visualize my life beyond the confines of my bedroom. I was walking in there, preparing my best marks, to put them forward to…to what? All Sam had told me was that I would go. That he would see to it that I would be able to attend University or receive some education beyond high school. That left a lot of room for assumption.

I shook my head, and shut my eyes.

I shouldn't be having this argument in my head, not now, not without Sam. If anything, I had learned that I couldn't make decisions for Sam and I; that I needed to talk it out with him first. Sighing I glanced at the clock.

_12:05_

Well. It was official. Senior year had begun.

Bring it.

"This is the beginning of my senior year." I murmur to myself as I rub the sleep out of my eyes.

I lay there in my bed for a little bit, and try and mentally prepare myself for the day. I didn't know what to expect. This was it. This was my final year of all the bull shit. It was the final time that I would see girls persecuted for what they wore, how they acted. The catty, petty behavior ended. Or at least, I didn't see it anymore.

This was the last year of listening to Leah Clearwater brag about how _wonderful_ everything was, how _perfect_ everything was, how perfect _she_ was. Seriously, if I could get a gag order, I would. I wouldn't have to see her stupid little face, her ever perky pony tail bob their way down the hallway.

But this would also be the last time that I would be able to skip to hang out with Quil and the guys, the last time to party, to let loose, to drink my Friday nights away. Sure I could do that in University, but something told me that if I did end up going to University, my mind would be here, as would my heart—with Sam.

Sighing, I close my eyes.

I jump a little when I hear my phone chirp from my night stand table. I groan, lean over and grab it, bringing it up to my ear, "Hello?"

"Hey, Baby Bells, you ready for senior year?"

"Quil? What the fuck man? And do not call me that!"

Quil answers with a laugh, and I scowl.

"Well, on a more serious note, Sam asked me to call you to tell you that he was going to drive you to school, if that were alright of course," Quil replied, ignoring my order.

"And he couldn't call to ask me this because?"

"He's, ah, patrolling." Quil says, and I can tell that this patrolling involves four legs opposed to four tires.

"Why? Was there another attack?"

"No. Not yet. We caught a scent."

"Oh."

"Yeah. But senior year is going to be great!" Quil forced with over-done enthusiasm.

I laugh, and mutter, "This definitely not how I pictured our senior year."

"Yeah, well, shit happens."

"Wow, Quil, don't get too mushy on me." I drawl with heavy sarcasm.

"Shut up, bitch."

"Ass-hat."

"Pussy."

"Fuck-tard."

Quil had no comeback. I laugh loudly, exclaiming, "Suck it, bitch! You don't have shit! Bella Swan wins yet again!"

"Yeah well…you're…a fire hazard!"

"I'm what, Quil?"

"Nothing."

"That's what I thought." I quipped.

Quil laughs and sobers, "You do realize, though, that regardless of the real douche," Quil coughs something that sounds like 'Jacob', "That we'll always be here for you. Or at least I will."

"Thanks, Quil."

"As much as I love bonding, I have to go, but I'll see you in a bit, Baby Bells!"

"I am not a cheese product, you bastard!" I screeched into my phone. But it was too late, Quil had already hung up.

That boy drove me insane.

Shaking my head I sat up in bed. I couldn't help but feel a bit lighter after my phone call with Quil. He had single handedly reminded me that I really wasn't alone as I walked into La Push's crap-tacular school. My boys would be there, well, except for one douche. Cough, Jake, cough.

I think I may have a chest cold coming on, yes?

I got up, a smile playing on my lips, and headed for the shower. I went about my business in the bathroom, teeth, hair and such. I came back out feeling fresh and ready to kick some ass, figuratively of course. But, maybe if Leah was exceptionally annoying…I shook my head, yanking my drawers open—one hand holding up my towel all the while.

Shortly later I was dressed in my favorite jeans; my combat boots were loosely bound, and the tongue of the shoe flopping around in the most rebellious way that just screamed teen angst. My black v-neck short sleeved shirt complemented my dark wash jeans, and I slipped on my leather jacket with a smile.

I was ready.

The bitch was back.

I snickered to myself and clomped down the stairs, my beat up satchel bag hanging carelessly from my shoulder. My mother was up and making breakfast—pots banging and clanging together as they met was my only indication. I entered the kitchen to see my father hiding behind the newspaper as per usual, and my mother flitting about with gentle, light steps.

Just then there was a knock on the door, and I instantly knew who it was.

My heart beat just a little faster, and I could my cheeks tighten and lift as I smiled. My hands felt all warm and sweaty, and my breathing was a bit quicker than usual. I sped walked over to the door, ripped it off the hinges, and smiled shyly, "Hey."

Sam laughed, "Hey."

I stepped forward into the light, and allowed its warmth to caress me as I leaned into Sam, wrapping my arms around him in a hug. He returned it easily, and I breathed in his comforting scent.

I pulled away, and said, "I heard you were Patrolling? Anything I need to know?"

"Nope." Sam said with a smile, but something was hiding in those deep eyes.

I narrowed my eyes, opened my mouth to demand a proper answer when my mother broke in, because she had great timing like that.

"Oh, Samuel! Good Morning!"

I rolled my eyes at her voice, rather her enthusiasm, because, damn it, I had wanted my answer. I would get it later though. Sam chuckled as I huffed, and I narrowed my eyes at him this time, mouthing, "We will talk about this."

Sam nodded minutely to my question as he greeted my mother, "Morning, Mrs. Swan."

"Mrs. Swan!" My mother giggled like a school girl, Christ, that woman had her own wolf—my father. I stared at her, and she settled herself, "Please, it's Renee. Would you like anything to eat, or are you here just to collect Bella?"

I rolled my eyes at her, and wanted to stuff her back in the kitchen. I couldn't imagine a nice family breakfast where my mother didn't embarrass me. I give her a look that tells her exactly how I feel about her little proposition and she smiles all innocent.

Sam smirks at me, "Sure."

I take a deep breath, grinding my teeth together as I smile tightly at my mother. We all file back into the kitchen and I glance at the clock hoping I can put a time limit on this little gathering. It is seven, and school starts at eight thirty, we have an hour. _Shit_. This is just enough time for my mother drag out the photo album and recount the story behind each and every photo. Sighing, I enter the kitchen behind Sam, and mumble, "You will pay for this."

Sam's answering chuckle tells me I have been heard, and I just know he likes to watch me squirm. Rolling my eyes I slide onto a stool, leaving the one beside me open for Sam. He sits down beside me, and my mother is quick to ask, "How do you like your eggs?"

I snort inwardly, and can almost hear my mother asking, 'Howwould you like _my_ eggs_?_' I shake my head and try to keep the laughter in. I do it unsuccessfully and chortle in the most unattractive way.

Sam glances at me from the corner of his eye and I wave my hand back and forth signaling that I am okay, but will not be sharing. Sam just shakes his head, "Sunny-side-up, please and thank you."

My mother nods and turns to me, "The usual."

She nods and goes about preparing the eggs, while I turn to Sam and say, "You just had to, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"Yes, you do."

"Toast?" My mother buts in with a small smile, and I shake my head, Sam nods of course, because that boy can eat anything if not everything.

"You should get toast, Bells." Sam advises as he watches my mother pull out two slices of bread.

"No, thanks."

"But breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" Sam protests.

"Sam, I am not going to have my mother make toast just because you want to eat mine and not look like a pig."

My father laughs from behind the newspaper and turns another page.

Sam leans in and places a small kiss on the side of my temple before pulling away with a small, "Please?"

I smirk, "Mom, could I please have some toast?"

My mother nods with a small smile, and places another two slices into our four-slice-toaster. I sit there, and all of a sudden I feel a hand grasp mine from under the table. I jump, before squeezing Sam's hand in recognition.

After multiple hand squeezes and a couple laughs, Sam and I were eating our eggs. I was nibbling on the first piece of toast and pushed the rest over towards Sam who happily chomped into them.

I stood and took both Sam and I's plates over to the sink, kissing my mother on the cheek in thanks. I quickly turned to Sam and said, "Let's go."

He nodded and stood, and made space for me as I moved to say good bye to my father, "Laters, Dad."

My dad smiled, tapped his cheek, and I in response laid a small kiss there, "Have a good one, kid."

I nodded and lead Sam out of the kitchen as he said, "Thanks Sir, and Renee."

My father grunted, my mother giggled, and I rolled my eyes. Sam and I were out the door and into his car, Shelby, in a matter of moments. I had my bag in my lap and was just buckling myself in when I felt Sam lift my chin and guide my head in his direction.

He gently pressed his lips to mine and I returned the pressure with the same amount and smiled slightly when he pulled away. He started Shelby up, and we lapsed into an unusual, but comfortable silence.

I was preoccupied with walking in there and seeing Jake. I mean, how awkward would that be? The last time we saw each other, he had threw our lifetime friendship in my face and then cut into me. Literally. I shook my head and just thought that it would be best to ignore him.

If I really thought about it, and a much as I hated to do that, Jake stopped being my friend a while ago. He went from being Jake, to the Douche-bag. D.B. for short. I didn't understand it though, how could he possibly do that? What was going through his mind that he thought so little of our friendship? Or what I thought was friendship. I just wanted to know _why_. Why would you _do_ that? I shook my head and tried to calm myself down. This would achieve nothing. Personally, part of me didn't even want to know. I was so done with it all, that I couldn't be bothered to deal with it all. I was so tired of Jake and his douche-baggary that I didn't feel like I could even pretend to listen if he felt so inclined to plead his case.

"Stop it." Sam ordered.

"What?"

"Stop doing that thing where you go through all the arguments in your head and get all riled up about it." Sam explained, eyes flickering form the road to me, and back again.

"Eyes on the road."

Sam sighed, and stared at the road, "Listen, I know you're worried, babe. But I am just going to tell you right now, that I ordered Jake to stay away from you."

I felt my mouth drop open slightly, "You _what_?"

"I ordered him to stay away from you."

"Why the fuck would you do that?"

"You know very well why. I can't have him around you, Bella. He hurt you. You can't expect me not to do whatever I can to ensure he never has opportunity again?"

My eye twitched.

I hated when people made decisions for me.

"So, how long does this order last for, exactly?"

"However long it needs to."

"Oh, so however long _you_ need it to last?"

"Isabella." Sam growled in warning.

"Don't you 'Isabella' me, Sam."

"Don't make me then."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Silence followed. I sat there, thinking about what had transpired. I understood why Sam would do it; it's just that he did it without consulting me at all. I knew he was insanely protective, it was a part of who he was, and I appreciated that, but just…I just wanted some warning, I guess.

"I'm sorry; I just want some future warning." I muttered, staring down at my combat boots.

"Okay. I am sorry too, I just…you mean a lot to me, and I would hate myself if I let anything happen to you if I could prevent it." Sam replied.

Silence fell over us again and before I could stop myself I blurted out, "Why were you Patrolling this morning?"

"The guys caught a scent. I went to investigate. It's getting closer. Whoever is responsible seems to be on our land." Sam said angrily.

"Oh."

I didn't know what to say and apparently I didn't have to as we were pulling into the school's half filled parking lot. Sam pulled into a spot easily, and as I un-buckled I stayed there, poised in his direction.

"Hey," I said, cupping his cheek and turning him to face me. "You'll figure it out."

Sam smiles at me and lays a sweet kiss upon my palm. I slip away and hop out of the cab of Shelby and close her door as I move down towards the end of the truck. Sam joins me there, leaning against the vehicle.

My gaze travels around the parking lot, surveying the different people clumped together in what would be the cliques that would define us. I start at the far end, noting that the burnouts were all together, taking one last toke. I shook my head, flicking my eyes to the athletes, who looked rather small next to my Sam. I smirked and allowed it to turn into a scowl when I reached Leah's little social group.

She was in the centre, surrounded by everyone, and I couldn't help but applaud her for gaining back her social status after I publicly humiliated her. I just wondered how many times she had to get down on her knees.

I shook my head and was about to move onto the next crowd when I felt Sam's arm slither around my waist as he murmured into my ear, "Don't let her get to you this year."

I smiled, turned my head towards him so that our lips were _very_ close, "I won't."

I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. They were always so warm, something I could never get used to. I smiled against his warm lips and whispered, "How am I going to survive the day with out you?"

"You will."

I just pressed my lips back to his, nibbling on his lower lip.

"Get a room!" I heard a voice that belonged to Quil shout.

I pulled away from Sam to see the boys walking our way. Paul, Embry and Quil walked towards us with the eyes of the greater population of our peers on them. I rolled my eyes and my eyes flicked towards Leah, seeing who she was staring at, but it wasn't any of them. She was staring at Sam.

Bitch.

I just pulled Sam's arm tighter around me to which he smiled, and shouted at Quil, "Fuck off!"

Quil laughed, coming to halt with Paul and Embry in front of Sam and me. We all gathered there for a little while when Paul drawled sarcastically, "You're going have to release that death grip you have on B, there, in a bit."

Sam laughed and said, "Never."

I blushed and laughed nervously, not used to all the attention on Sam and I. I looked around, past all the guys and my eyes caught a familiar head of shortly cropped hair and broad shoulders. I fingered my bandage on my left arm in response and felt my heart choke me. Jake.

His head was bowed down and my heart went out to him despite everything that had happened. He was supposed to be here with us. Our senior year wasn't meant to be this way, but then again, things had changed. I scowled to myself, and reminded myself of all the reasons that he wasn't with us. He had done this himself.

My sympathy shriveled up and died.

I snapped my attention back to the present when the shrill screech of a bell indicated it was time to go. I placed a chaste kiss against Sam's lips and as I pulled away I said, "See you in a bit."

I was tempted to tack on an 'I love you', but he hadn't said it back and I did not want to address that in front of the Pack. I was pulling away when Sam pulled me back into him for a searing kiss. He had me pressed against him with his tongue flicking across my lips. I slid my hands up into his hair and opened my mouth in permission.

I pulled away all breathless and said, "I'll see you later."

Sam nodded, letting me go.

"So, Baby Bells, you ready for senior year?" Quil teased as we walked through the doors of our high school.

"You call me that one more fucking time and I will hurt you, Quil."

"Yeah, whatever."

"Do you doubt me, sir?"

Quil just made that 'p-ff' noise that drove me insane; it irked me more than when people spoke in those stupid abbreviated terms like 'OMG!' or 'LOL'. Really? Gah, I wanted to punch people sometimes.

"Quil, I will have you make love to the end of a broom," I said as I came to stop in front of my Grade Eleven homeroom. "Got it? Good."

Quil just chuckled and entered last year's home room with me. I sat on top of my old desk and Quil hopped up into the one beside it.

"Careful, Chewbacca, you might just break the desk." I remarked, watching his huge form settle onto the wooden frame of the desk.

"Shut it, Swan."

I laughed and Quil joined me, but mine slowly tapered off when Leah walked into the room. She was with one of her many minions, and flicked her hair as she passed us.

"God, she smells like a whore's hand bag." I mumble as she passes, and it's true.

Leah smelled like a bunch of things. Too may things. The perfume she wore was that over powering shit that made you sneeze like a mother fucker and it was always the dumbest things like vanilla or cotton candy. I don't have anything against cotton candy, I want to eat it, not smell it. That was just the perfume. Then she had this lotion that she applied during fourth period—our school was on a semester system—and it had its own very different scent. Needless to say that being around Leah was like walking through a candle shop—and not at all in a good way.

Quil laughed at my comment, as did I. we chatted there for a little while and the moment I was waiting for happened. Jake walked in, and my hackles rose. I was done pitying him. I was done feeling bad for the shit that I had done, because what I had done was in no way as bad as what he did.

"Whoa, down, B." Quil reprimanded as he watched me.

I snapped my jaw and said, "I fucking hate it."

"What?"

"That I feel bad for what I've done, and yet he shows no fucking remorse." I spat, glaring at the back of Jacob's head.

"Yeah, well, when he pulls his head out of his ass he'll realize just how much of an idiot he has been." Quil spoke, his voice getting steadily louder in volume as he pierced Jake with his eyes.

Jake's posture stiffened but he kept on and took a seat in the back, far away from Quil and I. I shook my head and was relieved when Ms. Martins, my grade eleven home room teacher walked in with a cheery smile.

"Hello, everyone! I assume you all had a good summer?" She said.

And so it begins.

Cafeteria food sucked.

Balls.

I mentally reminded myself to pack a lunch for tomorrow as I looked at the options presented before me. Of course my school chose to go with a friendly program during my last year and so it lead to the monstrosity of food before me. I sighed and grabbed an apple instead of the warmed up shit before me.

I walked back over to our table, plopping myself down between Quil and Paul. It was very warm between the two of them. I felt like the bread between to toasters. I rolled my eyes inwardly at my own analogy and took a chunk out of my apple.

"So, boys, what's on the agenda?" I asked, referring to our time tables.

Embry was the first to rattle his off, "English, Math, Science, and Gym. As for second semester, I have got History and another science and two spares. Wow. They really don't plan this shit out, do they?"

Quil laughed, "Nope. I have got some sort of mechanics thing, Art, English, a spare, and for second semester I have got some sort of Science, Law, and History."

Paul, who was busy eye-fucking the cafeteria food didn't follow suit, and I took over, rattling off my own courses, "Art, English, Math, spare, and second semester looks like a bore with Law, History, Philosophy and a spare."

Paul who was now with the living spoke, "Same as Quil, minus the art. I am taking Philosophy."

I nodded and chewed on my apple as I stared off into space. I was sitting there when I heard the approach of someone. I raised my eyes from the counter top and watch with narrowed eyes as Leah approached our table. God, she just couldn't help herself could she?

I rolled my eyes and Quil snorted as if he had heard my thoughts.

She sauntered over with a pretty impressive swagger, I knew its intent was seduction, but it was just a tad too over done. So over done I think she practiced it while she worked her corner. She halted in front of our table, and looked at Embry who was seated at the edge of the table, directly across from me.

"Hey, Embry," She said, flicking her hair over her shoulder to allow more cleavage to be visible. "How was your summer?"

"Fine." Embry answered, looking highly uncomfortable.

"Really, because you're looking more than _fine_." She purred, running the tips of her fingers along his newly toned forearm.

Embry subtly pulled away, and remained silent.

"Leah," I said, smiling a bitter sweet smile up at her, "He's not interested. Back. Off."

"I don't remember inviting you into our conversation." Leah snapped, glaring down at me.

From this angle I could see all the clumps in her mascara, and the line of foundation and I had this strong desire to wipe all that shit off to catch a glimpse at what she was hiding. I clenched my jaw instead and bit back, "I don't remember inviting you over to my table."

Quil made those 'Ohhh' sounds, like we were at a rumble or something. I rolled my eyes at him and Leah, straightened herself up, smoothing down her shirt, "Freaks."

"Ho." I spat back and I could feel Quil's grin.

"Ho? I beg to differ. You're the one who fucks all your little freaks." Leah said haughtily.

Ah, of course, because I had guy friends I _must_ be sleeping with them. Right.

"Tell me, Leah," I leaned forward on my elbows. "Are you knees sore?"

Quil guffawed, and tried to contain his laughter. I felt him shaking with his bare-contained laughter but ignored him, focusing on Leah's reddening face. Bingo. I smirked, sat back and dismissed her, "Run along now."

Leah stood there, debating for a bit before turning and walking away. She was about six feet away when I called out, "Oh? Leah?"

She stiffened and turned back to me.

"Just because Embry didn't want to dip his dick in you doesn't make him a freak, it makes him smart, I mean, who _knows_ what's in there? All sorts of critters I can imagine!"

Leah's mouth fell open and she snapped it shut and screeched, "Why you little bitch!"

"I'm not the one in heat, opening my legs, so I don't know what the hell you're talking about!" I teased, tearing into my apple yet again.

By now I could hear the laughter of my peers and I just shook my head. It was shameful. Quil patted me on the back, snickering with everyone at my table. I just swallowed my apple and waited for Leah's come back.

It never came.

The only answer I got was the slamming of the cafeteria doors.

I smiled smugly, and felt Quil wrap his arm around my shoulder, "The bitch is back! It's going to be a good year, Baby Bells!"

I smiled sweetly at Quil and said, "Broom, Quil, broom."

Quil paled and laughed before removing his hand from my shoulder. I smiled once more at him before getting up and tossing my nibbled to pieces apple into the garbage can. I turned around and began to walk back to our table when my gaze got caught on Jacob again, who was looking right back at me. His gaze looked guilty as it flickered from my bandaged arm, up to my face and back again.

I glared at him and walked a bit faster towards our table. I sat down in a huff and Embry raised his eye brows in questioning. I just smiled weakly and said, "Nothing."

Embry didn't look fooled but thankfully he left it alone. To me, nothing was worse than being bothered or upset about something, and someone just keeps asking you if you're all right. Because, truthfully, you're not alright, and you don't want to be checked on every five minutes like you're ticking bomb or some shit.

Or that's how I saw it.

We finished up lunch quickly, the time passing quickly between insults and sarcastic jabs, and as I looked at the guys around me I couldn't help but hope that Quil was right; maybe it would be a good year.

The final bell screeched out the time and I flung myself out of my seat in the Library. It was my spare, and although I considered hanging out around the out door lunch, I opted for the solace of the library. It was there that I lost myself in the world of literature and didn't think about Jake, or Leah, or anyone for that matter.

Okay, _maybe_ I thought about Sam. But really, you can't hold that against me.

I dropped the old book down onto the table and left it there, nearly jogging out of the library. I filed through the halls with all the other students, trying not to step on any toes as I weaved through the thick mass of bodies. I was a little eager to see Sam, and well, I don't give to shits if I step on someone's foot.

I finally made it to the doors and was scanning the parking lot for his big frame, and couldn't help but feel disappointment when my eyes didn't even spot him. I pushed my hair behind my ears and walked further out into the parking lot looking for the guys.

I gave a sharp yelp when I felt an arm curl around my waist. It was Sam, and that was only confirmed when I felt his hot breath fan out across my ear, "Looking for someone?"

I merely twisted around to see him and smiled coyly up at him, "Maybe."

Sam smirked down at me and I felt his hand gently run up my back and caress the nape of my neck, awakening every nerve as he did so. Goose bumps broke out across my skin even though his touch was hot. He cupped the back of my neck, tilting it backward, and I closed my eyes in submission. His hot lips met mine, the kiss sweet and moist as he worried my upper lip with small chaste kisses that slowly turned into soft nips. He soothes the little bites with that soft tongue of his in gentle flicks and slowly he pulled away.

I smiled up at him, blushing slightly.

He smiled back down at me and it felt like we were in our own little world in that moment. It was just the two of us, and all I could feel was the heat and security his arms offered. I sunk into it, relishing in our private moment. Everything was perfect, and of course it had to be ruined.

"Excuse me," A voice said, and I drew my eyes from Sam to see who dared to interrupt me. It was that girl from the diner, the one I reamed out for staring at Sam. I think her name was Emma, or Emily or something. I stared at her with narrowed as and noted that she stared at Sam blushing the entire time she past. Poor thing, I think she had a crush. I smirked, and shook my head.

Sam looked down at me quizzically and I just grabbed his hand and said, "How was your day?"

"Good," Sam replied, and squeezed my hand. "How was yours?"

"It was alright. First verbal spat of the year is out of the way, so I _guess_ it was kind of productive." I said, my tone wry.

Sam laughed, "Who started it, you or Leah?"

"Leah did, of course."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

Sam laughed and came to a stop in front of Shelby. All the guys were standing there, including Jake who was laughing at something that Paul had just said. I stopped short, stumbling into Sam, who growled at Jake. I take it he wasn't staying away from me as ordered. I squeezed Sam's hand, warning him to be careful. Everything had gone silent, even the parking lot. But by now it was nearly empty; the only remaining people were too far away to access our little gathering in too much detail.

Jake was quiet now, his laughter dead. I averted my eyes to Sam, watching him silently. Jake stood rigid, and I kind of felt bad. I mean, he was being separated from his Pack all because of me. He couldn't be around me, and I was always with the Pack, which means he couldn't be with the Pack.

Jake who looked to be fighting some intense internal battle turned and walked away. I bit my lower lip, and instantly knew he was walking away because it had been an order to stay away from me. I took in a deep breath before murmuring, "You want to get out of here, Sam?"

Sam just nodded.

The guys dispersed and I watched them go. I wasn't going to apologize for what had just happened. It wasn't my fault. I was partly responsible, but it was Sam who had done that to Jake. I simply turned away and hopped into Shelby after opening her bright red door.

Sam joined me after soon after jogging around his truck. He got in started her up and slowly pulled out of the parking lot. The car was silent as we made our way to my house, and I knew Sam had something on his mind. His man-pretty face was arranged into a worried frown and I felt the strong urge to smooth his features out. But I resisted and watched the scenery go by.

Sam rolled to a slow stop in front of my house, and I looked at him, "Do you want to come in?"

Sam just nodded, still silent as ever and followed me to my house. We climbed the steps together, and I pulled my screen door open, unlocking the second wooden door behind it. We entered the house and I grabbed Sam's hand after I had dropped my satchel bag next to the shoes I had kicked off.

I tugged on it, leading him up the stairs. The only sounds were the squeak of the stairs as they bared our weight, but I didn't feel nervous. Sam was merely thinking, and I wasn't worried. We entered my bedroom, and I pulled him over to the bed. I laid down on it, patting the spot next to me. He complied, lying down as well.

I rolled onto my side, and he followed suit, spooning me from behind. I smiled, happy with the cozy warmth. Sam remained silent but wrapped his arms around my waist, and I laid my own over it, the other curled under my head.

I could feel Sam's soft breaths seeping into my hair, and I doodled little nonsense across is warm forearm. I let him take his much needed silence and after a while, when I felt him begin to lay soft, moist kisses on the nape of my neck, I spoke, "You know you should do what is best for the Pack, Sam."

Sam just grunted and I turned over in his arms.

He faced me now, looking directly into my eyes. I knew he was warring with protecting me, and keeping the pack united. I laid my hand on his cheek and began to lay soft kisses across his face.

I was laying a kiss upon the corner of his mouth when I whispered, "You know what I mean, Sam."

He nodded, and pulled me closer, "I just…you're important to me, baby."

"I know I am," I stroked his cheek. "But the Pack is as well. It was around long before me, and just because I am here now, doesn't mean I am more or any less important. I am not going any where, Sam. Don't be afraid to do right by your Pack."

He nodded, and squeezed me a little closer so that my body was hugging his, "You're right, you're right."

"Even if lifting the order against Jake means we'll have to sort our shit out, Jake and I, that is; I'll do it. You can't divide the Pack like this." I said in a whisper, and Sam nodded.

Sam brushed his lips against mine, "I missed you today."

"Mmmm," I hummed against his lips. "I missed you too."

Sam pulled away minutely before saying, "I forgive you."

I blinked, before smiling. He still might not trust me, maybe not love me, but he had _forgiven_ me. I knew it would take time, but I had the patience to wait. I just hope that my patience didn't run out, because, well, that's the last thing we needed. But instead of dwelling on all of that, I let Sam capture my lips again, and threw myself into the kiss.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: I am sorry for not leaving an author's note last chapter at both the end and the beginning, but I was in such a hurry to update that I actually forgot to write the note. Sorry readers! **

**I am also quite apologetic for the rather slow update, my apologies, but things have been so hectic lately!**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter, and let me warn you there is some heavy citrus happening.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, it all goes to S.M. No copyright infringement intended.**

**Read, review, but ultimately enjoy!**

**~*.*~**

**Boarders**

**Chapter 23: Feel what you feel as long its real**

I was currently sitting on Sam's couch in is living room working on the home work that was assigned to me today. I listened to the sounds of Sam moving about in the kitchen, the steady sound of his foot falls, the occasional opening and closing of a cupboard and running water. I sighed, closing my eyes and allowed a small smile to grace my lips.

Just as I was finishing up a sentence I felt eyes on me, I glanced up and left and saw Sam leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, starting at me with a small smile playing on his lips. I raise my eye brows in question, and await his answer. He just shakes his head and I return to my work. I can still feel his eyes on me, and I feel the burn of my blush under my cheeks.

"Are you just going to stare at me, or what?" I mumble, knowing his wolfish senses will have caught my comment.

Sam remains silent and I begin to worry my lower lip, my nerves being responsible. Was something on my face? I release my lip, allowing my free hand to play with my hair, ruffling the waves and my nerves. I try not to, but I glance up and see that he has moved, sitting on the chair to my left.

My heart jumps in surprise, and I am once again struck by how man-pretty he is. His delicious jaw line is defined proudly, and I lick my lips. His high cheek bones, and full lips make me bite my lower lip, but it's his eyes that make me smile. He smiles back and I close my books, finally giving into the temptation sitting before me.

It feels like forever, and nether of us move. We just sit there, staring at each other. I am overwhelmed by the amount of love that swells in my heart as I look at him. But it is a bitter sweet affair, as I know that my love is one sided. I am the only one to feel such an all consuming emotion. It pains me to know that he doesn't love me back, and I feel the hurt wrap its icy fingers around my heart. I know I had no right to feel this way, but I couldn't help myself. It was rather ironic that I, the Imprint-e fell for the Imprinter, first. I shake my head inwardly, and try to dispel what I am feeling. It doesn't work.

I glance away, my hair falling into place as a curtain.

I silently turn to my bag, and begin to place my binder and note book back into the aged carrier, and it proves to be difficult as my hands are trembling under his burning gaze. I feel it, and I curse my hands, clenching and unclenching them once my items have been placed into the bag. I move to stand up; somehow needing to move around a bit, hoping the movements will jerk these sinful thoughts out of my insecure mind. I walk away from the living room and enter the kitchen, my thoughts still swirling around, doing my head in circles.

I walk into the kitchen, Sam hot on my heels, and I feel my shoulders tense. I try to relax them, but I can't. This new thought is crawling under my skin, making me want to scream. I can't handle it, I feel sick, and wished that I had never thought those words: he doesn't love you.

I sink my teeth into my lower lip to an extent where I might break the skin, I am trying to keep the words in but they are all I can think about as I grab a glass from Sam's kitchen cupboards, fill the cup with water and guzzle it down. I move around the kitchen silently and fluently, already at home in his house.

I remain by the sink, swishing the water around in the cup, following with hypnotic motion with my eyes. I toss the rest into the sink, and place the cup there, staring at the steel contraption. I plant my palms there, and I flinch when I feel Sam's arms wrap around my waist from behind.

I am stiff in his arms, and try to relax because I know he can not only feel what I feel, but can read me like a children's book. So I relax, and he tightens his hold around me. I feel his hot breath against the nape of my neck as he bows his head down to place a soft kiss there.

His hot lips awaken every nerve in my body, and the goose bumps break out. I lean back in his arms and sigh. I know I should be grateful that I am in his arms at all, after all that I have put him through. But still, a bitterness forms in me, and I scold myself.

"What's wrong?" Sam asks, his deep voice caressing my senses, and I shiver when I feel him lay a moist kiss on that sensitive spot behind my ear.

"Nothing."

"Hmmm…." Sam rumbles, and runs his nose along the shell of my ear, nipping the lobe with his teeth playfully. "Somehow I don't believe you."

I smile to myself, and shriek when I feel him grip my sides, tickling them. I shriek and laugh in his hold, squirming around, and shouting, "Uncle!"

Sam laughs, and I jump when I feel him move to grab my hip.

He laughs, grabbing it firmly, "Relax."

I giggle and rest my hands on his chest—bare chest I might add—as he pulls me closer. He smiles down at me, and I feel my own lips turn up in response. He takes his other hand—the one that isn't gripping my hip—and uses it to brush my hair away from my face. Pulling back the curtain. He rails the back of his knuckles across the path of my cheek bones and once he reaches my lips, he traces his thumb over the lower one.

As I look into his eyes, I realize what he's just done.

I smile, wider, and recognize that he has taken my bad mood away. I glance down from his eyes to his lips, and as if reading my mind he removes his thumb and presses his lips to mine. I melt into his embrace, offering him free reign over my lips, and allow him to lead the way.

His lips are warm and welcoming against mine, gentle as they place repeated kisses against my own lips. Sam grasps my lower lip between his own, flicking his tongue across it, and nudging my own lips with it open. I comply, opening up, and Sam explores every inch of my mouth, languidly stroking his tongue against mine.

His kiss slows, and gentles and as he pulls away he places several chaste kisses against my now swollen lips. I sigh as he pulls away, resting against him, wrapping my arms around his waist. He returns my embrace, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, resting his chin atop my head.

We remain there for a few moments, and all of a sudden I hear the sound of Sam's front door opening and, "Sam? You here?"

It takes me a moment to identify the voice, and for a moment I stupidly think it's an intruder or something, but then my mind catches up. I know Sam has an open-door-policy when it comes to the Pack, and as Sam and I recognize the voice; he tenses and I tighten my hold on him.

It's Jake.

~*.*~

I stare out the window and watch the two of them.

Sam is standing in the backyard, his profile visible to me, and Jacob mirrors Sam's position, facing him. They are having a very…interesting conversation from what I can see. Mind you, I am only running on body language. They could be arguing over the variety of trees in La Push for all I knew. But somehow, I knew they were talking about me.

Jacob makes a wild gesture at the house, and Sam scowls, yelling back at him. I frown a little, and deepening my voice I imitate their conversation, "Meh, meh, meh, I'm Jake!"

I go back and forth, putting words into their mouths, watching their theatrics safely from the window. It looked intense, Sam was yelling, Jake was shaking, and I was nervous. Their fight was ended when Sam shouted very loudly, so much so that I could almost hear it. I stepped back from the window out of shock, and stop myself from imitating their conversation once I see Sam take a step forward, yelling even louder, I can almost feel the waves of sound. Jake scowls and I sigh. This is ridiculous, why can't they have this conversation around me? I mean, their arguing about what has happened, and that has everything to do with me. I scowl, and turn away from the window, headed for the kitchen.

I figure if I can't see them arguing I wont feel the dangerous need to go outside and insert myself in their little conversation. I mean, Sam had obviously taken Jake outside to talk to him alone for a reason, who was I to undermine his orders?

I walk over to the kitchen phone, take it off the hook and dial my home number. I listen to it ring and ring, and finally my mom picks up, "Hello?"

"Hey Mom, I am thinking that I am going to be at Sam's a little longer than I expected, is that alright?"

"Sure, sweetie, what time do you think you'll be home at?" She asks, and I can tell that she is pleased that all is well between Sam and I.

"Around eight?"

"Alright, see you later, love you!" My mother calls through the receiver.

I freeze when I see Sam come in, but he's brought Jake with him. My heart constricts, fear engulfing it with fierce hug. I wasn't scared of him harming me physically again—that had been an accident—but his words were much different. They seemed to hurt more, in fact I was well on my way to recovering physically, I was getting the stitches removed tomorrow after school, and then the cut on my arm could slowly heal.

His words delivered a different kind of wound, ones that couldn't be stitched up nicely. I could still hear them, and that didn't help matters one bit. I hear my mother's voice calling to me, and I blink back into the present where Sam is looking at me with concerned eyes and Jake is looking rather guilt ridden and fearful.

"Bye mom, see you later…" I mumble, my eyes never leaving Sam's.

I hang up the phone and pause there with my back turned to them. I straighten up a bit, and try and draw strength from within. I recall the anger, its simmering heat making me clench my jaw and turn around with my chin raised in defiance.

I would not let Jake see me cry for him ever again, I would not shed a single tear, I was better than that, he didn't fucking deserve my tears. Taking in a deep breath I look at the both of them levelly, and wait for the silence to be broken.

Sam stands a bit straighter and I can tell he is in full Alpha mode, "Someone is here to talk to you, but that won't happen unless you want it to."

I weigh the pros and cons, and decide that I might as well get this over and done with. I had a bone to pick with Jake and I wanted some answers. Plus, yelling at him had its perks too. I nod, and say, "Okay."

Sam nods and looks at Jake, "You're so lucky that she said yes, don't make me regret this."

Jake scowls and holds his tongue, I know he has something to say, but wouldn't dare to disrespect Sam. I feel a surge of smugness rush through me at the sight of this, and try not to laugh as Jake walks into the living room, or should I say fighting arena? I walk in behind him, butterflies moving frantically about in my stomach.

Sam files in behind me and I glance back over my shoulder in question. Sam catches my gaze, sees my puzzlement and mouths, 'Just in case'. I nod, and I can't blame him. Even though my anger ruffles in response, shifting its attention to Sam, I know it is misplaced. I mean, I can't really blame him. I bet he is more nervous than I am.

Jake walks in and sits down on the couch and I sit down in the chair opposite, Sam just remains standing, tense as he takes post next to me in a protective stance. As I sit across from Jake I can't help but feel that this is some major standoff, and I nearly snort at the idea.

We remain sitting, the silence awkward as it is tense, and I observe Jacob in the silence. He looks tired and kind of sick, but what is most concerning is the look on his face. It was twisted into this look of pain, and I followed his eyes. He was staring at my injured arm, and instinctively I pulled it out of his line of vision, down into my lap.

"Bella…" Jake choked, and rested his head in his hands.

My heart lurched, thumping violently in my chest as I watched my best friend of fifteen years fall apart before me. He cradled his face in his hands, and even as I heard him groan painfully, I tried to summon some of my anger. It came but it was intermingled with something else; pity.

I clench my jaw, and close my eyes as I speak, "Jake, what do you want?"

He looks up at me now and I see my Jacob there.

The one who has saw me through it all, the one who has made me laugh till ice cream came out of my nose—yes that's possible—and hugged me when I was upset. I see the guy who was the first to sign the cast of my broken wrist when I was in the eighth grade. I see the friend that won me a stuffed animal at a carnival we went to in Port Angeles last summer, and I smile inwardly, thinking back to when things were good between us.

"I want to tell you that I am sorry, real sorry, Bella," Jake runs a hand through his hair. "I am so fucking sorry for all that I said, because…I know that I didn't really mean it, you gotta know that, okay? I never meant it. I don't mean it. I was just so fucking mad at what had happened that I blamed it on you because I had phased the night you cut me out of your life. And, God, Bella, I never meant to hurt you and Phase like that. I am so fucking sorry!"

I sit there trying to take it all in. this was mildly overwhelming as I don't even know how this is possible. This is a completely different reasoning than what I heard a couple of days a go. I feel my anger rise, filling me up to the brim, blinding me as I try and keep it tame.

"What the fuck, Jake?" I snap angrily.

"You can't do shit like that!" I screech, waving my hands about wildly. "You can't just expect me to know that you didn't mean it! Fuck, Jake! I…I won't even pretend to know what it feels like to become a-a werewolf but…god, did I really have to be the fucking scape-goat? I get it, I hurt you, but I didn't throw our friendship of fifteen, _fifteen_, fucking years in your face!"

Jake bows is head in shame, and I stand, staking a step forward, as I speak lowly, "I am sorry for what I did, Jake. But what I am sorrier for is being your friend for so long and enabling you to think that you came first and that I was always going to be there— that was a stupid thing to do, and for that I am so very sorry. But I am most sorry for letting you down with that promise because, truthfully, it makes this my entire fault. I am sorry, Jake."

With that I turn away, not allowing Jake to reply, and I swiftly walk out of the living room. I didn't want to hear any more. It was immature but I didn't feel like listening to Jake spew his excuses all over the place, and I am sure he meant the apology, but I couldn't find it in myself to look at him and tell him that it was all okay, because it wasn't.

I couldn't honestly extend any forgiveness to him as I didn't. He had gone from slandering our friendship, my friendship, to speaking of it with reverence, and I could almost feel the whip lash from his three-sixty turn around.

I stumble up the stairs and I listen as Sam advises Jake.

"Jake, you have to understand how hurt she is, and how confused you've made her with this."

"I know, I know. Do you think she'll ever come around?" Jake asks, and I can't help but feel bad. There was so much hope, so much regret filled in that one little question.

I tighten my grip on the banister, and finish the climb up the stairs. I make it to Sam's bedroom and flop onto the bed, trying to clear my head of all the things whirling around in it.

It is painful to know that what I had said to Jake was true. My last words to him were crafted in the moment, and I was now just realizing how true they were. This was my fault. Had I not enabled Jake into thinking that I was always going to be there, I wouldn't be in this position, fighting this fucked up battle. I had made the stupidest mistake; I had promised Jake that I would be a constant.

It was dumb. I should have never done that because it was fucking impossible to do. I couldn't be constant, nobody could. It's promising to never change, and no one stays the same forever. Everyone is changed by what happens to them on a day-to-day basis, micro changes taking place and we don't even know it.

I had done this with Sam too. I had told him that I would be all these things and then changed my mind. God, how could I be so stupid? The writing was on the wall but I couldn't take the time to pull my own head out of my ass to read it.

I feel the mattress sink with Sam's weight, and I keep my eyes closed. I didn't want to talk about it just yet, and Sam, bless him, seemed to grasp that. He wordlessly pulled me closer to him, and I found myself lying on my side facing him.

I scooted a bit closer, wrapping my arm around his waist and folding myself closer to him so that there was virtually no room for anything but air between us. I sighed, and tried to push the painful thoughts away.

It was my entire fault.

Well, with the exception of Jake phasing.

"Hey," Sam pulled back, looking at my face and brushing away a stray hair. "What's wrong?"

His question was nearly laughable, what _wasn't_ wrong?

"It's my fault."

Sam frowned, "No, it's not. How can you say that? It's Jake's fault, not yours!"

Why couldn't anybody see it? It was _my_ fault. Not Jake's. _Mine_.

"It's my fault, Sam!" I mutter angrily, not wanting to go over this.

Sam drew away, and it stung, "Bells, do you hear yourself? How can you blame it all on yourself?"

"Because it's the truth!" I sat up in a huff, throwing a glare back over my shoulder.

I sit on the edge of the bed, elbows bent and resting on my knees as I bowed my head, fisting my hair in frustration. Sam sits beside me, wraps a hand around my wrist, bringing it down from its painful grip on my scalp, and he repeats the action with my other hand and says in a deep voice, "Don't do this to yourself."

"Do what? Take responsibility for my actions?" I mutter, standing up now.

I face him and Sam frowns up at me from his sitting position and speaks firmly, "No. Don't take it all on because you both share the blame equally. It is not your entire fault. Jake had every opportunity to give instead of take, Bells."

I frown, "No he didn't, Sam. I robbed him of that opportunity the moment I made myself into a constant. He didn't know any better, it doesn't make it right, but it explains it."

Sam grabs my hands, "Bella it is not your fault, alright? Just because it explains it doesn't mean its acceptable. Bella, you did enable him but you can't honestly believe that everything that has happened recently is a result of that?"

I pull my hands out of his, flailing them as I speak, "It is my fault! I brought it upon myself! He thinks he can act that way because I've allowed him to! Christ, Sam, how can you not see this? I did the very same thing to you!"

Sam frowns, and stands up so quickly that I can't keep up, "What the hell are you talking about, Bella?"

"I promised to be the same, no matter what! I promised that I would be whatever you needed, and never change! I have no right to make that promise because I _have_ changed! I _will_ change! I can't promise anything other than that I will be here!"

"Bella," He rumbles out. "No one can promise to be a constant, and you're right, it was naïve to make that promise, but how were you to anticipate what has happened? Everything has changed. It's changed you and Jake, and I can safely say that he doesn't mean a thing he has said in the past, about your friendship. Half of it is all the anger as a young wolf, the other half is you being the target."

"I…I just…" I flounder. I just _what_?

I just wanted it to make sense. If I took the blame it would make sense to me, at least. I didn't like chalking it up to him being a werewolf, because it was just so hard to think of Jake that way. I mean, sure I knew he was a werewolf, but it hadn't seemed so real until I had been hurt, until now. It was hard to accept that for a moment that I wasn't able to protect Jake like I normally did. I was losing him to something greater, something bigger, something that I couldn't protect him from.

That was it.

I hadn't been able to do what I did best, so I was doing it now instead. I was protecting Jake from the guilt by taking it on. Holy shit this is fucked up. I can't believe it. Even as angry as I was, I was still in care giver mode. This shit had to stop.

I groan and step back, but Sam won't let me, as he grabs me and says, "You see my point?"

I just nod because it's the simpler way of telling him that I figured it out. I didn't want to take a trip down memory lane today and explain my care giver role with Jake to Sam, and how I stilled upheld it today. But I did see where Sam was coming from, he was right. Had none of this werewolf business gone down Jake and I would probably be going strong, me as the protector. Sam was right; I couldn't have anticipated such drastic change that would affect me in their own way.

I just hugged Sam to me a bit tighter and murmured, "Sorry for my little spaz-attack there."

Sam laughs and says, "No problem, Bells."

~*.*~

Sam and I are lying on his bed, facing each other, our hands entwined.

I don't know how long we had been lying like this, but it was nice. We were close enough that our feet were all tangled up and our hips were close—but not touching—and for once I could look him in the eyes without craning my neck to do so. I had purposely matched our head placement so that I could look him directly in the eye.

I smile fondly at him, and here in his bedroom it feels like we are in our own world. A world where I can't hear Jake's hurtful words, couldn't feel the painful struggle to forgive and brush it all away. It was a world where I didn't have to think about trying to make things right, when in reality, I couldn't—not just yet.

I took my free hand that wasn't entwined with Sam's and brushed a piece of hair out of his eyes. I stared into those deep eyes and I recalled all the times that I had looked into them, wondering what was hiding there. I remember looking into them and seeing the most mysterious of secrets, and wanting to know each and everyone.

But somehow I knew that I hadn't covered each and everyone, just yet. I knew that I had some questions for him but it was always a daunting prospect when asking them. Whenever I uncovered a new truth about Sam's existence, it was always mildly shocking and nearly always frightening. It wasn't frightening like go-running-for-the-hills-scary it was like peeling back layer by layer and wondering if things could get more complicated.

I glanced down at our entwined hands and back up to his honest eyes as I spoke, "I have some questions."

Sam nods, "Okay, but I have questions for you too, then."

"What? I am not that interesting, what could you possibly want to know about me?" I whine, not wanting to provide the answers to the questions I knew he'd ask.

He just cocks his right eyebrow in response and I huff, "Fine."

We are silent for a few more moments and I take initiative, plunging head first into the figurative ocean.

"You have a fucking season?" I blurt out, in question.

Sam roars with laughter and says, "We prefer, 'mating' season, but yes it's my _fucking_ season. It goes from January to April, normally. It's when I feel the need to mate most; it's supposed to be for reproductive purposes. A long time ago it was useful to the werewolf and its imprint, but in terms of today, not anymore."

I laugh, "So basically what you're telling me that from January to April you're extremely horny?"

"Essentially, yes."

I laugh, a little more, somehow finding this hilarious. I try keep my laughter to a minimum but I can't and end up snorting a I try to keep it in. Sam watches this and remarks dryly, "I wouldn't be laughing, if I were you. You're going to have to deal with it from too, you know."

I chortle out a laugh and retort, "Who say's we'll be fucking by the time its mating season?"

Sam smirks evilly, and in a husky voice he says, "Well," He leans forward, closer to my face. "I am willing to be that we will be, I am _very_ persuasive."

I smirk, "Don't get too cocky sir, I might just find it suitable to cock-block you."

"Well, well, well, do we have a bet here, Miss Swan?" Sam drawls, eye brows raised in challenge.

I nibble on my lower lip before speaking, "Okay, I am willing to bet that we will not be fucking by the time mating season rolls around."

I knew I was going to loose this bet, but I would do it gladly. 'Cause of we were being honest, I knew Sam and I would be doing the horizontal tango before mating season. But…I would need to know something before we did, and that was my next question.

"What the hell is marking?" I ask, and Sam's eyes widen at the abruptness of the topic.

Sam laughs nervously, "Well, wolves normally mark by scent and you'll have my scent all over you all the time, but it gets stronger with mating. It makes it official when we mate, it's kind of like me finally claiming you and you admitting that you are spoken for."

So it was making the imprint official, essentially. _The last nail in the coffin_, I think dryly. I snicker inwardly, but before I can stop myself, I ask, "So, the guys can smell you on me now, or what?"

"Yeah, its just stronger after the first…mating, I guess." Sam mumbles, and I can tell that he's kind of embarrassed.

I laugh, and say, "So what are you going to do about the guys who can't smell your scent all over me?"

"Beat them with a stick." Sam dead-pans, in all seriousness.

I laugh at him and he chuckles, "Seriously."

I just shake my head, my laughter spilling out but it dies when he says, "I have some questions, as well."

I nod, and try and prepare myself, reminding myself of all the times he had been more than forthcoming with information. I am expecting some big question but instead Sam asks, "When is you birthday?"

"September 13th." I supply, biting my lower lip.

"Shit, that is soon. What do you want for your birthday?" Sam asks with a big smile, I can almost see the gears turning in his head.

I shake my head, "I haven't even thought about it."

"Well," Sam brushes his thumb across the back of my hand, leaving a tingling trail with each pass. "Think about it, for me. I need to know what to get you."

"Sam, you don't need to get me anything." I argue, not wanting him to go out of his way. An evening with him would suit me just fine, like this one, where we could just be.

"Yes I do. I want to." Sam argues back, and the way he says it tells me that I am getting a gift regardless of how I feel.

I roll my eyes, "Okay, okay. But, honestly? Whatever you give me would be fine, as long as it's from you, it'll be the best gift."

Sam snorts, "So if I gave you a pack of gum you'd be happy?"

I glare at him, "Yes, but I wouldn't be sharing."

"Oh, really?" He says, unclasping our hands so he can trail his hot hand up my side.

"Uh-huh." I stutter, because I wasn't anticipating his move at all.

His hand leaves a fiery trail that seems to ignite my entire body, setting each and every nerve aflame. I bite my lip when I feel him draw me in some more, and moan when his lips connect with mine. They are warm and soft against my own, and I can't help but gasp at the heat. Sam takes advantage and his tongue slithers out to greet my own, languidly playing with it. I arch into him, trying to bring an end to the zinging shots of pleasure that are shooting through my body and straight to my groin. I press closer, running my hand up his side to find purchase in his jet black hair.

He pushes me gently so that I am on my back, and he is over top of me—not once breaking contact with my lips. I am just about gasping for air when Sam pulls away, moving to place moist kisses along my jaw. Feeling his weight holding me down only intensifies the tension in my lower abdomen and I whimper when I feel Sam pull my leg up so that it is at his hip. This has his hard on pressed against my core, and I grind into it, gripping is hair all the more tighter and sliding my hand over his chest to grip is broad shoulder.

Sam playfully bites my lobe, and groans when I grind against him harder, creating a delicious friction that makes me throw my head back. Sam tightens his hold on my leg, and slides his hand further up my thigh. I arch into him and let out a breathy moan when I feel his hand grip my hip tightly before sliding beneath the hem of my t-shirt.

The feel of his hands on my bare skin is too much to handle, and I moan loudly. The heat is awe worthy, and at this new contact the coil of pleasure contracts in response. His hands are so hot against my own skin and it feels as though I am being branded.

Sam crashes his mouth back to mine and I kiss him back with just as much force. I slide my hands down over his chest as Sam slides his own up my chest. I know I am going to have to remove my shirt for this to work and Sam seems to realize this as well as he pulls back, tugging at my shirt.

I nod in assent and arch up off the bed to make it easier for him to remove it. He kneels between my spread legs and peels the shirt off with hungry eyes. I feel hot all over when he gazes down at me, eyeing my chest. He leans back down murmuring, "Beautiful."

I cup his face with my hands, pulling him in for a needy kiss as I wrap my legs around his hips. He settles between my legs, and we both moan at the movement. His hands return to my torso, leaving hot trails that I feel all over. _All_ _over_. I moan into his mouth when he grinds against me, and slides one hand around my arched back to remove my bra. All of a sudden I feel a nervous flutter in my stomach as he struggles with the clasp. He pulls away, to lay kisses on my neck, and finally I hear a _snap_.

I draw my hands away from his face to shrug out of it, my bra that is, allowing it to fall from the bed and onto the floor. Sam draws back, and looks at my now naked chest for a few moments, and I am tempted to cover my self. But I restrain the urge, and sigh in relief what I hear him groan in what I hope was approval.

He gently slides one hand up my torso and cups my right breast. The heat of his touch causes me to moan like a porn star and arch into him. His bare hand on my breast is too much, and the heat travels through my body and right to the throbbing between my legs, intensifying it.

I whimper when I feel Sam slide his thumb over my nipple gently, just a feather light touch. It pebbles beneath his thumb and Sam flicks his thumb a little more roughly back over it. I moan and buck my hips, seeking some release. Soon his other hand is fondling my other breast and zings of simultaneous pleasure are rushing through me. I bite my lower lip when he begins to circle both my nipples, brushing the sensitive peaks with his calloused thumbs.

I am trying to keep all of my desperate sounds in the throb between my legs intensifies. As if sensing this, Sam roughly grinds into me, and huskily murmurs in my ear, "Let me hear you."

My breath gets caught in my throat, and I let out a loud moan when he grinds into me again. It is just so god damned, or _he_ is just so hard, and I whimper when he grinds against me as he continues his torture upon my breasts.

I follow his movements, grinding against him just as roughly, but I fumble when he bows his head to lay hot, wet kisses across my chest. I just about die when I feel his hot lips brush against my nipple. I moan and arch even further into him, encouraging him as he gently pulls it into his mouth. The heat of his mouth is too much and I groan, fisting his hair in my hand when I feel his hot tongue flick across my sensitive bud. He suckles on it softly, but it soon turns to be a rough as he rolls it between his teeth. I cry out at that and he releases it, moving up to lay hot kisses against my neck.

I slow my grinding when I slide my own hand down his chest and brush over his nipple. He growls into my neck, and I give him the same treatment, circling it and brushing it over lightly. He groans and I let out all the air in my lungs in a whoosh when I feel his hot hand flick open the button of my jeans. I mimic his movements sliding my hand down to the button of his jeans and popping it open.

I am so wet that it's like Niagara Falls down there, and Sam knows this too when he cups my sex, "You're so wet for me."

I moan all needy like a harlot, and he smirks—which I am quick to wipe off his face when I wrap my hand around his erect member. He groans as I squeeze gently and I moan when I feel him push my underwear to the side, and rub my slick folds.

He slides his rough calloused thumb up and down, up and down, and he finally stays at my clit, rubbing it languidly, nearly lazily. I cry out and squeeze him a little harder, to which he growls.

I release my tight grip slightly and slowly brush up and down his length. He moans, bucking into my hand. I bite my lip when I feel Sam gently slide a finger into me, and soon we are working in tandem. We find our momentum, matching each other's pace.

The pleasure is mounting and mounting, and I pump my hand faster, as does Sam, and soon I cry out his name as my orgasm rips through me. I vaguely hear him growl as he reaches his own climax, bucking into my hand.

I come down from my high panting and with a big ass smile on my face. That has been our best yet, I believe. I am still feeling the after shocks of my orgasm, and gently pull my hand out of Sam's pants.

He rolls off of me, and reaches over to grab some Kleenex off his bed side table. He uses them to clean himself up I assume, but I wouldn't know as my eyes have closed and I was still catching my breath.

Sam pulls me into his side and I am reminded that I have no shirt on. I blush and turn to reach for my shirt and bra but Sam stops me with a growl and a firm grip on my waist. I raise my eye brows at him and he smiles sheepishly, simply pulling me into his side.

I consent, and rest against him.

We are quiet for a few moments and all I can hear is the thump of his heart with my head pressed to his chest. Sam runs his hands through my hair, brushing the strands and my back at the same time. I shiver and snuggle closer.

"Was that okay?" He asks in a deep voice, and his hand falters during his cycle of brushing through my hair.

I literally laugh, tossing my head back as I ask through my laughter, "Are you serious?"

Sam just grumbles, and I calm down enough to rub my hand soothingly along his chest as I answer, "Baby, that was more than okay. Fuck, screw buying me a gift for my birthday, a repeat episode of this would do me just fine!"

Sam laughs, and I smile up at him. He grips my waist firmly, squeezing it as he sighs contentedly. I lay a gentle kiss on his pectoral muscle and return to using him as my pillow.

I close my eyes and can't help but feel thankful for the imprint. Here I had found this wonderful man who was beyond anything I could have ever wanted. I smile slightly and allow the feeling of wholeness wash over me. I had met my match, so to speak, but I had also found the peanut butter to my jam. I smile at the thought and hope that one day Sam will one day love me like I him, and see me as the jam to his peanut butter.

**A/N: Wow. If I don't say so myself, that was pretty damn hot. Well, I hope you all enjoyed it! I am sorry for the rather slow update but I am up to my elbows with work and I can only write in the little spare time that have.**

**PLESE READ: Ladies and any gentlemen that are reading my story, I have some exciting news. We are close to gaining 1,000 reviews and it would mean the world to me if we reached that number! So please, please, please, if you can help me reach my goal, do it! Truthfully, as I long I have been writing on Fanfiction it has been my dream for one of my stories to get 1,000 reviews and it means all the more because of how closely I hold this story to my heart. It would be amazing if you all could help me reach the 1,000 bench mark!**

**Anyway, if you could review please do.**

**Onto other things…**

**Play List for this chapter:**

**Stadium Love—Metric**

**Such Great Heights—Postal Service**

**Creator—Santigold **

**The Violet Hour—Sea Wolf**

**Burning Down the House—Talking Heads**

**Holy Roller Novocaine—Kings of Leon**

**My Moon My Man—Feist**

**Take What You Take—Lily Allen**

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	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Hello and thank you! Thank you so much to all who reviewed just as I requested last chapter, and you guys did me proud! Only seven more reviews before we hit 1,000! How exciting is that? Thanks to all who added me to their favorites and such, I appreciate those as well! I hope you enjoy this chapter and review, please, please, please!**

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**Disclaimer: It is all S.M's. I own nothing. **

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**Chapter 24: Yellow Sun**

It was the second week of school, and the shit had hit the fan. There had been two vampire attacks in the last couple of weeks, and it was positively killing the Pack. But it got worse. Guys on the Reservation were phasing left right and centre, and that's a lot of teen wolf angst to manage, just ask Sam. Sam was on edge as of late and to be honest, it was worrying me.

He literally had the weight of his entire world sitting on his shoulders, and I didn't know how to help him. It didn't help both that his growing sense of paranoia was reaching an all time high, and it was his order that no matter what, a Pack member was always to be with me. I just let him have those little senses of security but it was particularly hard to remind myself of this when Jake was the one playing body guard.

We still hadn't really talked about what had happened, instead had just taken up a civil way of treating each other. I knew that Jake wanted to talk about it, and that thought was only solidified with every single guilty glance he threw my way. I had to refrain from telling him to stop because I knew he wasn't doing it on purpose, I would literally catch him looking at me all guilty and shit.

But I had bigger things on my mind.

Over the past couple of weeks, things had gotten weird. It felt like I was being watched at all hours, and that seriously creped me out. It wasn't like the Pack watching me that much I knew. It was like I was being studied or something, like a bug under the microscope waiting for the next experiment. That thought sent chills down my spine, but not as much as the dreams I had been having.

They started happening last Saturday, almost a week ago. I had been standing on Sam's back porch, waiting for him to join me. I had been alone and I was just looking around when I caught a flash of something in my peripherals. It was a streak of white and red, like a flame, and then it was gone weaving its way through the forest, into the darkness.

That was where every dream started.

In every dream I was standing on Sam's back porch, the fleeting summer sky just slinking away. I would be standing there, see the flash of red and white, but in the dream the blurs of color slow, swirling around me. In the dream I reach out to catch the blur, and a cold, white hand grabs back and I am being pulled along into the forest, I try to scream for Sam but it doesn't work it never does. I can never see their face in the dream, just flaming red hair. Then, it's at this part that things start to get real scary. I try to escape, begging and pleading but they fall on deaf ears and all of a sudden my captor throws me forward onto the ground, singing softly, giggling when I scream for help. I am jerked upward, towards the person, and all of sudden, they bite into my arm. Then it feels like I am being bitten all over, as if more of them have come to feast, and I scream.

It is at that point that I wake up, always.

I want to chalk it up to my imagination running over board with the recent vampire attacks but I know it is much more than that. I had seen that flash of red and white on Sam's porch that night and that scared me. The vampires were real, they were out there, and there was nothing we can do about it.

Scrap that, we could do something about it; we just weren't successful at the moment. But we should be. With the help of the vampires next doors we know that there are three vampires running this circus. Apparently they are nomads, that basically means that they are bored as fuck vampires that move from place to place sampling the buffet of each. But at La Push it's all you can eat, and it's getting dangerous. So far the count is four and that it way too high when a Pack of wolves are around. Regardless of this, the Pack has grown considerably. We have picked up a couple of new members, Collin and Brady, and we were waiting on more.

The kids were way too young, they were _kids_. Collin and Brady were in grade nine. Even I was worried about that, as was Sam. He was getting more and more concerned about the amount of them phasing because of the presence of the vampires and kept on saying that they were too young, that it wasn't normal, wasn't _safe_. He told me that they weren't supposed to Phase until they were older, because if they get any younger the kids bodies won't be able to handle the Phase and would end up rejecting it, possibly killing them.

I didn't understand how we were not finding success. Our Pack was now two members stronger, and the Cullens were on vampire watch as well. It just didn't make any sense, these vampire fuckers were clever.

I was worried for everyone, the people of La Push included.

La Push was small, the deaths didn't go unnoticed, and they were looking less and less like animal attacks. It was like the vampires _wanted_ people to know that they were blood suckers. The police force was getting restless, and everyone seemed to be remembering the legends of our Tribe. Our little Reservation was on edge, and precautions were being taken. Kids were to be inside before dark, and no one was to travel alone—safety in the buddy system.

But Sam knew it was pointless. It didn't matter if you had a buddy, unless it was a werewolf. The vampires would attack regardless of our safety in numbers theory. But that was the thing, it wasn't our theory, it was the Council. The Council was more than aware of the attacks, but they were doing this for their people, I would assume. They were trying to give everyone a false sense of security, protect them from the world that _we_ knew. That the Pack knew.

It was frightening to think that I could have been one of those blind sheep.

I jerked the thought away and tried not to focus too much on it. That was what killed me about all of this, it wasn't just the Pack that was becoming a concern, and it was the people it was promised to protect. They were sitting ducks slowly being ticked off and we were the ones responsible to protect them. Or at least the Pack was.

It was third period and I could slowly feel my eyes drooping, I hadn't gotten much sleep last night, my nightmare keeping my lids open. That was the thing though, I would wake up, go back to sleep, and it would start up again. I was terrified to sleep at this point.

Sam knew about what I had seen that night, but he didn't know just how badly it had freaked me out. Between the new Pack members and the vampires on his mind, I didn't expect him to. Part of me wanted to tell Sam, to let him know, but then the other part reminded me of the fact that he didn't need to worry about me on top of everything else.

"Hey," Jake nudged my arm from his seat next to me. "You okay?"

My eyes flutter open, "I'm fine."

Jake scoffs and I can't even muster the energy to get out a snarky reply. Instead I return to copying notes off the board and ignore the heavy weight of my eye lids. I glance at the clock and groan internally, there were forty minutes left to this period and hoped that I could stay awake.

The shrill school bell jerks me into alertness, and I sit up abruptly.

"Shit," I mutter, scrubbing at my face. "I need to stay awake."

Jake looks at me with concerned eyes, and I shrug it off, grabbing my stuff and throwing my bag over my shoulder. I am clearing the aisle of desks when I feel Jake grasp my elbow firmly.

"What?" I snap, not at all in the mood.

"Bella," Jake tugs me to face him, still maintaining a firm grip on my elbow. "You need to talk to Sam about this."

"About what?" I jerk my elbow out of his hand.

"About your nightmares, Baby-Girl." Jake says, dragging his old nick name for me out from safe keeping. I scowl, and clench my jaw, "What are you talking about?"

"You talk in your sleep, Bella. Not loud enough for everyone to hear, but loud enough for some one with the likes of my senses." Jake supplies, and I immediately stiffen.

The warning bell runs between us, slicing through my silence as I mumble, "I'll see you later, Jake, I have to go."

I turn on my heel but I stop when I hear from Jake, "No you don't it's your spare."

"I'll be in the library."

I fold my arms over the library's desks, and lay my head atop my folded arms. I sigh and blink, widening my eyes, trying to stay awake. But despite my best efforts my lids slip down, covering me, blanketing me with darkness…

_I stand still, waiting for Sam, and gaze around his backyard. The sun is just setting, its rays slowly retreating, surrendering to the dark. I catch something in my peripherals, a flash of red and white._

_My heart thuds as the blur dashes around me, making me flick my head this way and that, and I feel a cold brick of panic settle into my stomach. I feel sick, and I just want it to stop. The creature, the blur, moves around me at a dizzying speed. Without thinking I reach out to stop it, to catch it. _

_Except it's me who has been caught. _

_The thought sends a signal of fear and ultimate panic through me as I feel a cold, hard hand grab at me, pulling me forward before letting me go. The blur dances around me and I reach out again, the cold hand clasping my shoulder this time. I jump, and try to call out when I feel the aggressor grab my hand in its deathly grip. _

_But no sound comes. _

_I try again, panic floods through me and all that I hear is the sound of my captor grabbing my wrist, breaking it as they drag me along. The hands that inflict such pain are cold and pale as the purest of snow and I try to scream. Nothing happens but the repeated rant inside my mind: Sam, Sam, Sam._

_I am being dragged through the forest, stumbling over the gnarled roots. The pain in my wrist is absolutely unbearable, and finally the painful grip is no more, and I fall before the cruel person who has decided to play with me. Desperation has me by the throat, its suffocating grip making it hard to breathe. _

_Suddenly the cold touch is back, and I swear it is death itself that has taken me into its arms. I cry out when I feel teeth pierce my skin, the flaming red all I see. But the sharp tugs and cuts are multiplying, spreading all over, and the life is slowly being drained from me, and I scream…_

"Dear, you must wake up," I hear with gentle shakes, my eyes blink open and I look into the concerned eyes of the school librarian. I smile weakly at her, and sit up, wiping the sweat that had formed on my brow.

"Sorry," I whisper, and let the smile fall from my lips.

"No apologies needed, but dear, if you don't mind me asking, what is got you so riled?" she asks, and I nearly laugh, instead I just shake my head and murmur, "I am just going to go get a drink, walk it off, you know?"

She nods, and leaves me to my solitude. I rise from the desk, my limbs stiff as I walk towards the library's exit. I push open the door the door knob cool in my palm, almost as cool as the vampire's hand in my dream. I shudder at the comparison and hurry down the hallway towards the fountain.

The cool water passes through my lips and down my throat, and I pull away, scooping up some of the arcing water and splashing it over my face. I just felt so exhausted and I was feeling mighty frustrated with the current events.

I pulled away from the fountain, standing up and flinching back when I saw Jacob leaning against the wall next to the fountain.

"We need to get you a collar with a bell." I grumble, and push past him, headed back to the library.

I hear Jake laugh, it bounces off the walls, surrounding me, and I allow myself to go back to simpler times, when his laugh was a regular occurrence. I keep walking, cutting into the library. I walk past the desk that I had passed out on and head straight for the aisles of books, and I feel him following me. Christ, he couldn't take a hint could he? He wasn't even playing body guard today, and besides, I didn't require one when I was at school, it was just the in between hours.

I stop in the aisle and turn around, facing Jake who has followed me.

"What?" I demand, running a hand through my hair. "Why are you following me around?"

"Because I am worried about you, Baby-Girl." Jake supplies, looking at me as though I was going to crumble before him.

"Stop, then, okay? There is nothing for you to worry about, Jake." I assure, him my shoulders slumping with the heavy sigh I exhale.

"Sure there isn't," Jake snaps, a disapproving glare cutting through me. "If there is nothing wrong, then why can't you stay awake? Why do you look like death warmed over? Hmm? What has got you so scared, Bella?"

I clench my jaw, hissing out my reply, "It's none of your fucking business! I am fine!"

Jake sighs, defeated, "Bella, please, talk to me, I…I know I have been horrible to you, but please, just for a moment, pretend like I haven't because you're my best friend and that makes you my business. Please."

I look at him, standing there before me, the Jake I know, _my_ Jake.

Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the words were just so true, he was my best friend and fuck if I hadn't missed him, but whatever the reason, I launched myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. I feel him encircle me in his arms, and I tighten my arms around his neck.

"I'm so sorry, Baby-Girl." Jake mumbles into my hair, and I feel my eyes water.

What had happened, when had things gotten so fucked up? Tears slide down my face as I nuzzle my face in the crook of his neck, and in a voice thick with tears I reply, "I am too."

Jake loosens his hold slightly, pulling back to wipe the tears that had fallen, "Oh, Baby-Girl, don't cry."

I just cry harder, a sob ripping through me as tell him in a gurgled mess, "Don't you ever fucking do this to me again, okay? I forgive you, but if you ever hurt me like this again, I swear, I will cut your balls off!"

Jake laughs and I lean against him, wrapping my arms around his waist in a fierce hug. Jake sobers and returns the hug, laying his cheek atop my head, murmuring, "Fuck, I missed you."

I laugh, but it's this awkward cry-laugh and it makes me laugh even harder. Jake laughs too, and soon we're just laughing at nothing. My belly hurts and I pull away, plopping onto the library's floor. Jake joins me, and we look to be fools as we cackle away on the dusty carpet. I wipe the tears of laughter from my cheeks and calm myself mildly, giggling softly as my laughter flees from me.

Jake and I are quiet now and I lay my head on my shoulder, sighing, "I missed you too, Jake."

Jake just rests his head on mine, sighing in relief, I assume. I look out at our legs stretched out before us, and I close my eyes, feeling at peace momentarily. Jake and I were back to normal, Sam and I were good, but the rest was in up roar. Figures, I snort inwardly and push away my cynical thoughts regarding the vampire issues.

Jake nudges my foot, and asks, "So, what is wrong? I know you, Baby-Girl. What's up?"

I spill without any hesitation. I tell him about everything, about the dreams, about how scared I am, about how I feel like I am being watched. He listens patiently and when I am done I feel significantly lighter, utile Jake speaks.

"You need to tell Sam, Bella. About everything. He may know that you saw, but you need to tell him the rest, about being watched, and the dreams." Jake advices, his tone firm.

I remain silent for a moment, and nod, "I know, but it just seems so fucking stupid to tell Sam about my dreams and what not. He doesn't need one more thing to worry about, Jake."

"Oh, so telling him that vampires might be watching you is stupid, you're right, let's jut keep that little gem tucked away." Jake drawls sarcastically.

I roll my eyes, "You know what I mean. Jake, Sam literally the weight of his world on his soldiers. I don't need to add to that."

"Bella, what do you think an imprint is for?"

I just remain quiet.

"That's what I thought. Listen, you can't go on like this, and you won't because when I Phase, all this shit is going to be common knowledge, so I suggest that _you_ tell Sam." Jake warns, and I groan.

"I guess I have no choice then, do I?"

"You never did, Baby-Girl."

Sam and I are lounging on the front porch: Sam sitting on the couch there and me snuggled up in his lap. His hand passes through my hair gently and in the comfortable silence, I make my proclamation quietly, "I'm scared."

Sam pauses, but continues his smooth strokes through my hair, "I know."

"No, Sam. Really scared. It feels like someone has been watching me ever since that night on your porch, and I've been having this nightmare, Sam—that's why I've been so out of it lately. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner." I say, my voice shaking shamefully.

But I was scared. Vampires were out there and I wasn't about to kid myself into thinking that just because I ran with wolves—internal snort here—meant that I was exempt from the potential of being a snack. A shudder ran through me at the thought, and Sam tightens his hold on me.

"I won't let anything happen to you." Sam said firmly, definitively.

I nod, and I believe him. I know Sam won't let anything happen to me, nothing that he can prevent, at least. But I knew that there was potential that he couldn't protect me.

Sam laid a kiss on the crown of my head, growling out, "They'll answer to me if they dare to harm you."

I just nodded, and asked, "How are Collin and Brady?"

Sam groaned, "They are fine for the most part, but they treat this entire situation like some action movie, like we are super heroes or something."

I chuckle, "They're kids, Sam. What do you expect?"

Sam and I remain there for while, chatting idly. We migrate inside the house once his stomach rumbles and I insist on making dinner. I am at the stove when I hear people enter the house, and I wipe my hands on a towel, walking out to see who coming in.

I had yet to meet Brady and Collin, and I could only assume the two new faces walking through the house were the boys Sam had spoken of earlier. I look at Sam, and mouth, 'Collin and Brady?' he nods, standing up from his seat at the kitchen counter.

I return to the stove, and watch as the boys file in, "Hey, Sam!" One of them greets, whether it's Collin or Brady I am unsure, but it's they way they say it, as though he hadn't expected Sam to be here at all. I shake my head and Sam chuckles.

I turn my head, and Sam catches my eye, walking over. He wraps an arm around my waist, and says, "This is my Bells, boys."

I glance at him from the corner of my eye, and I detect a trace of pride as he introduces me. I just smile, sticking my hand out, "That's Bella, to you guys."

They just gape at me, and one of them nudges the other.

I stifle a laugh, and the shorter of the two grasps my hand, introducing himself with a wink, "I'm Brady, but you can call me whatever you want baby."

I snort at him, and Collin steps in, rolling his eyes, "I'm Collin, and please, forgive him, he's an absolute idiot."

I arch my brow, and transfer my attention to Brady, "Anything?"

"Anything." Brady confirms with smirk, and I can tell that he is a lady's man. Wait till he imprints, I think wryly.

"So, if I wanted to call you 'B' you'd be all right with that?" I goad.

Brady narrows his eyes at me, "That's not what I meant."

"Whatever you say, B." I smirk, and Brady blushes.

Sam laughs at the exchange, and I do too. I just shake my head and place a kiss on Sam's cheek, departing from his arms and move back to the oven. Sam takes the boys into the living room, and I turn from the stove to the counter grabbing the red peppers I had there waiting for me.

I am rinsing them when I hear another person enter the house, who knew Sam's house would be so busy on a Friday evening? I set the pepper down on the counter top, and as I walk towards the front door I wipe my hands on the loose kitchen cloth I have over my left shoulder.

It's Jared and company. Jake, Paul, Embry and Quil file in behind Jared, _full_ _house_, I drawl inwardly. I greet them all with raised eye brows and they all smile broadly, "Hey, Sam! Bella!"

I stand there for a moment, watching as all the guys make themselves at home, Jared walking past me into the kitchen, Jake follows closely behind as does Quil while Paul and Embry join Sam with the boys in the living room. I am hit with a thought, this is my normal. The Pack coming over to Sam's and just hanging out seemed like it was going to be a regular occurrence. I smile at the thought, and clear my throat, Sam glances at my from the couch and gives me this smile that tells me that we're thinking the same thing.

I sigh, "Well, I assume you're all staying for dinner?"

Sam smiles at me again and I hear a chorus of yeses. I turn back to the kitchen and enter laughing at all the guys crowded around the table, looking at the ingredients laid out on the kitchen counter. Quil looks at Jake, "I bet that it's Italian."

Jake scoffs, "No way man!"

"Want to bet ten bucks on that, Jake?" Quil challenges, raising his eye brows.

"Okay, ten dollars says that it's not Italian." Jake says, confident in his wager.

I walk over to the counter; pick up the pepper and say, "I'm making lasagna."

Jake groans and grudgingly hands over the ten dollars he bet. Quil smiles smugly, and I just laugh, slicing into the pepper. Jake frowns, "What is with the red pepper?"

"Snack food." I supply, snatching up the piece I had cut and biting it in half.

I chop the pepper, and Jake comes to stand beside me, "Need any help?"

I nod, "Yeah, could you get me a plate to put these on?"

Jake walks over to the cupboard and returns with a plate, and I go on like that, asking them to get me things as I put dinner together. I feel so domesticated as I move about the kitchen, and I know that someday this will be my home. I smile and grab the box of noodles Sam has in the cupboard and place them into the boiling pot of water.

I look around and it's then that I notice that Jared is the only one left in the kitchen. He looks rather preoccupied, something on his mind I would assume. I watch him for a moment, and ask, "You alright?"

Jared snaps his attention back to the present, "Huh?"

I chuckle, "I asked you if you were alright, you look worried."

"I imprinted." Jared blurts out, and my eyes widen, I wasn't really expecting that of all things.

"Well, congratulations are in order I guess, what's her name?" I ask, and all of a sudden it's like the entire Pack is in the kitchen. Sam was first, and soon they were all crowding poor Jared until Sam told them to back off. Sam pulls Jared into one of those man-hugs where they clap each other on the back, I watch, making room so all the guys can offer their sentiments. Jake and I hang back, and I glance at him from the corner of my eye, "How long to you think it will take for him to tell her?"

Jake chuckles, "I don't know, I mean, look how long it took Sam to tell you."

"That's different," I bump shoulders with him. "He didn't have much say, with the age difference and being Alpha and what not."

Jake nods, "True, true. But I think Jared may have to wait it out with all the blood suckers running loose."

I nod, acknowledging his point but quickly dispelling it from my mind, I couldn't think about it. If I did my fears would eat away at me, and Sam needed me strong. With that thought I walked over to my boiling noodles on the stove, finding my lasagna ready for assembly.

I begin to do so, and I feel Sam come up behind me, placing a small kiss on my cheek as he says, "Thank you for making dinner, baby."

I smile, and am about to say no problem, but Jared interrupts, asking, "What's was it like?"

My eyes snap to him, and I am distracted by the tingling sensation Sam's lips have left on my cheek. I raised my eye brows in question and Sam speaks, "What was what like?"

"You know, like the imprint," Jared said, glancing at me as he said, "Before you knew about it?"

"It was…" I trailed off, at a loss for words. "Well, at first it was really fucking confusing."

Sam laughs loudly.

I smirk at Sam, turning back to Jared, "It was really confusing up until the point that Sam told me. I mean I felt this strange pull to him and any time he was close or touched me or anything like that I would get like a shock or some shit. But it was more difficult for Sam and I you know?" I flick my eyes to Jared, who is nodding for me to continue.

"I mean, before, I really didn't like Sam. So it was really hard to acknowledge the new feelings I was having for him as well as to see him as more than an annoying cop. But over time, I got to know him, and eventually, I grew to see him as more than just that annoying cop." I said, glancing at Sam from the corner of my eye, smirking.

Jared nodded, but I could tell he was still bursting with questions.

"I think it'll be a bit easier for you," I added more sauce to my growing lasagna. "I mean, you have to basically go out with her, Sam had to do that and much more."

Sam snorted, "That's an understatement."

I turned my gaze on Sam, narrowing them playfully. He places another kiss on my cheek, followed by one to my temple, "You know what I mean."

I shiver at his proximity, "I know."

Jared laughed nervously, "How long should I wait?"

Sam laughs, "Fist of all what's her name?"

"Kim." Jared sighs.

I pulled the lasagna out of the oven, or rather the multiple pans of lasagnas. I place them on the counter and pull out the garlic bread next, my stomach rumbling as I smell the lovely aromas. I pull out enough plates for all the guys and myself and place them at the edge of the counter, adding cutlery to keep the company on the counter top.

"Dinners ready!" I call, and all the boys come flying in.

I stay back, not wanting to fall victim to their stampede. Sam is the last one to enter and he joins me, wrapping an arm around my waist and planting a kiss on my surprised lips. I return it, smiling a little.

I hear groans of disgust, and I hear a distinct 'boo' coming from Quil, but I can't me bothered as I run my hand from his cheek to the nape of Sam's neck. He pulls away laughing at the guys and I do too, grabbing a plate to put my food on.

I join the guys at the table, and stop short when I realize that there aren't enough seats. Jake, Paul and Quil, Embry, Collin and Brady are standing while everyone else is sitting and I move to stand beside Sam, who is sitting closest to me when he grabs me by the waist, planting me in his lap.

He still has one hand wrapped around my waist as he eats and I have one arm resting on his shoulders as I sit sideways in his lap, eating off my plate. I ate slowly, watching as the guys went up for third, fourth helpings, and I laughed inwardly.

The table was filled with chatter, and as I looked around, I noticed something; this was what the Pack needed. The past two weeks had been hell for all of them with late Patrols and odd hours, never mind the paranoia that was slowly increasing regarding the blood suckers. They were all making light of this evening not letting the events get to them; no, no one was thinking of the fact that we were waiting on more members, nor were we thinking of the nomadic vampires disturbing La Push, nor were we thinking of the extra person to worry about—Kim.

I am drawn out of my moment when I feel Sam's lips brush against my ear, and his hot breath against my cheek, "Thank you, baby, for everything."

I know he is talking about much more than making dinner, and I nod in acknowledgement, turning my face to place a simple kiss on his lips. I know that Sam and I should enjoy this evening, and any other peaceful moment that we can grasp, because something tells me that they won't be frequenting the life of the Pack for a while.

I moan loudly, Sam's touch feeling heavenly.

He could be masseuse, but just for feet, I note as Sam massages my foot, pressing against the arc of it. My feet are resting in his lap comfortably, and I am quite thrown when Sam breaks the silence, "I see you and Jake are back on better terms."

The way he says it is all wrong, and I frown at him. He says it as though he doesn't like it, sullenly, almost petulantly. Immediately narrow my eyes, "So?"

Sam clenches his jaw, "When did this happen?"

"Today, at school."

Sam and I lapse back into silence and it isn't all that comfortable. I don't know what the fuck Sam is thinking; I am his imprint for Christ's sake! It's not like I think of Jake that way, I mean, sure we had history but it lasted the span of one night. Maybe that is what is brothering Sam, what else could it be? Regardless of my suspicions I didn't say anything, but the tension was slowly growing between us, the inflatable elephant now standing in the room.

"What's wrong?" I ask, yanking my feet out of his lap, and folding them underneath me.

I hear this rumbling coming from deep inside Sam's chest and I roll my eyes, exasperated. I stand up, heading out of the living room and towards the kitchen, the dishes now needing to be cleaned, but I am stopped by Sam as he grabs my hand. I gaze down at him expectantly, eye brows raised. He growls again, quieter this time as he tugs my hand so that I fall into his lap, straddling it.

I cup his cheeks, brushing my thumbs over his killer cheek bones, "Sam, you don't need to be threatened by Jake, alright?"

He makes this huffing noise, and I lean forward, laying a kiss on his cheek, "I belong to you, baby."

He places his hands on my hips. _Progress_, I drawl inwardly.

I place a kiss on his forehead, "I love him, but I am _in_ love with you."

A kiss to the corner of his sweet mouth, "He will never have me like you do."

Sam grunts, scoffing.

I ignore it, knowing he is thinking of that one night when Jake did _have_ me. Instead I place a moist kiss at the corner of his jaw, nibbling lightly, "You have no reason to be upset, Sam, think of it this way: he only had me that one night, you have me for the rest of our lives."

Sam rumbles, "One more thing he has of you that I don't."

I roll my eyes inwardly, silly boy.

I pull back a little, searching his eyes as I ask, "Can I tell you something?"

Sam squeezes my hips in acceptance.

"Jake and I have left that night where it is, where it will always be—in the past," I sigh. "That night was one of his worst moments yet, and I did the best I could to comfort him. Sam, what Jake and I shared wasn't amazing, okay? It was my first time, it hurt like a bitch, but it was a moment that really solidified our friendship. I am not going to lie to you, it was an intimate moment, but I will tell you this, Sam, the small moments we have shared together as of yet, mean something much different to me, something much greater than that night."

Sam nods, but it's still bothering him, I can tell.

I begin to play with the hairs at the back of his neck, and I reveal a little more, hoping to put his mind at ease, "Sam, when you first met me, my boys, Quil, Embry, Paul and Jake owned parts of my heart, but Jake held the biggest. I don't know why, he just did. But when I met you, everything changed. Sam, you own my heart, and the guys, Jake included are just renting spaces. I love them all, I really do, but you eclipse all of that. They will always have a place in my heart, but nothing compared to the place _you_ have."

I press my lips gently to his, whispering brokenly, "I _love_ you, what will it take for you to believe me?"

Sam presses his forehead to mine, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you like this. I believe you, Bells, I really do."

Sitting in his arms though, I wondered if he really did. I wondered if he said it just to appease me, and that thought alone had shame twisting my gut. But what if it were true? What if he didn't believe me? Had he no faith in the imprint, in _me_? I didn't want the answers. It hurt me to think that he was loosing confidence in us over Jake of all people.

Don't get me wrong, Jake is important to me, but somewhere along the line, the type of importance changed, blurred and transferred into something that only Sam invoked in me. I would always be there for Jake, he was my best friend, however, I would be there for Sam—no matter what.

I felt hurt breathe its icy breath into my lungs, making it difficult to breathe. But I had to calm down, I knew this. But at the same time anger erupted within me, frustration encouraging the dancing flames. I understood that Sam felt insecure, but I had professed and proclaimed my love for him time and time again. Why was it so hard to believe? Could he not feel it through the bond? Did he not see the truth in my eyes?

All of a sudden today's earlier exhaustion swept through me. So, with my heart choking me and my eyes heavy, I asked Sam to take me home. He complied, our ride silent and contemplative. I rested my head against the back of the seat of the truck, and watched as the trees blurred together with the night. Before I could stop myself I wondered if the vampires were out there, in the forest, now.

I shivered at the thought, and was more than relieved when we came to a slow stop in front of my home. I unbuckled myself, Sam too, and it wasn't long before I felt his steady hand cupping the back of my neck, pulling me into a small but sweet kiss. I pulled back, whispering, "Laters, Sam."

He nods, but before I can go he grabs my wrist, speaking as he does so, "Call me if you need anything tonight."

I know he is referring to the nightmares, and I am relieved at his offer. Maybe they would be so bad tonight, but in the event that they were, I knew who to call. I smiled weakly, and slipped out of the truck.

Once I was inside I removed my boots toeing them off and making my way up stairs with lack luster greetings to my parents. I changed out of my clothes and into some pajamas, nestling under the covers with a deep sigh.

As I lay there, my eyes closed, waiting for sleep to take me, I felt a chill of fear run down my spine. I sincerely hoped that the vampires I had created in my mind did not come to visit, but something told me that Sam might just be receiving a phone call. So, with my eyes closed, I let sleep pull me under, and I really hoped that it was just sleep that was going to take me tonight.

**A/N: There you have it, the vampire aspect, as promised, is winding up. Get ready for some fangs guys; it's going to get crazy! The next chapter won't be as vampire-driven I guess, it'll be the mini-break before all the vampires break out of their coffins and reek havoc. **

**I am quite close to 1, 000 reviews, and thanks to everyone who chipped in! Only 7 more reviews until I get 1,000! Can you believe it? Thanks so much to all who brought me this close, it is very much appreciated!**

**Any way, onto other things, like my musical inspiration for this chapter.**

**Play list:**

**Crawl—Kings of Leon**

**Eyes on Fire—Blue Foundation**

**Moonlight Sonata—Ludwig Beethoven **

**Help I'm alive—Metric**

**Gold Gun Girls—Metric**

**Push your head towards the air—Editors**

**Panic Switch—Silversun Pickups**

**Heads Will Roll—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Yellow Sun—Raconteurs **

**Farewell readers, and don't forget to review please and thank you!**

**PS: I am going to be busy for the next couple weeks so it will be while before I update! Sorry! Sorry for any typos as well, I am really tired as I write this!**

**Bye!**

…

**Review, please?**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: I AM SO SORRY! I just finished up with exams and what not and I had no time over the past few weeks to even consider an update. I am so, so, so very sorry! Forgive me? This chapter is super long to make up for my weeks absence. I really hope you all enjoy it; it was a pleasure to write.**

**Thanks to all who reviewed, we officially have more than 1,000 reviews! That's still makes me grin and do a little happy dance! Thank you, thank you, thank you!**

**I truly recommend listening to the song 'Awake My Soul' by Mumford and Sons, for it is officially Sam and Bella's song, if you're into that and like music.**

**Anyway enjoy, and review please and thank you!**

**Oh, and updates will be more frequent because my exams are done.**

**Review please!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own S.M's stuff, I just borrow it.**

**Boarders**

**Chapter 25: Awake My Soul**

I wake up to the morning light caressing my skin, almost as warm as Sam's touch but not quite. I smile into my pillow, and nuzzle in further, wanting to return to my unconscious state. I yawn, and am about to slip back into sleep when I hear the tell tale jingle of my cell phone. I growl into my pillow and try to ignore the artificial sound of clanging bells. With a resigned groan I stick out my arm from my cave of covers and blindly search for my phone. I grasp it and pull it to my ear, greeting in a voice raspy from sleep, "Hello?"

"Happy birthday, Baby-Girl!" Jake greets, and despite my grumpiness of being woken up at—I peek at the clock on my bedside table, which reads eight A.M—I smile.

"Thanks."

"Sorry, I know it's early but I have Patrol duties today and won't be around, during the morning at least."

I yawn and echo, "Thanks."

Jake laughs, "Well I'll let you get back to sleep, but I don't think you will."

"How is that funny?" I huff, sitting up now.

"C'mon, Bella! You're eighteen now; you've got all the time in the world to sleep!"

"Oh, so I have your permission?" I ask sarcastically, my snarky attitude strong.

"Anyway, I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay," I yawn. "Be careful, Jake."

Jake just laughs and repeats his greeting before hanging up. I press the end button on my phone, collapsing back onto the bed, closing my eyes as I resign to the fact that Jake is most likely right—I won't be going back to sleep. Just as I am about to slip back into sleep my phone begins to ring again. Groaning, I pick it up, "Hello?"

"Happy Birthday, babe!"

I feel this goofy grin spread across my face as Sam's greeting filters into my ears. His warmth seems to extend through the phone, chasing away the cobwebs of my nightmare, scattering the haunting images. I sigh inwardly, it tinged with relief.

"Thanks," I rasp. "And good morning."

Sam chuckles, and asks, "How'd you sleep?"

I am tempted to tell him that I didn't sleep well at all, that I was up for the majority of the night, but then it's my birthday, and I'll lie if I want to, "It wasn't too bad."

It wasn't, not really. It was the same dream over and over again, but what killed me was that it was a surprise and I got scared shitless each and every time. I pushed the thoughts away, regretting this train of thought as the images of my nightmare flickered through my mind with stunning clarity.

I shivered, and focused my attention on the present.

"So, what do you want to do today? When do I get to give you my present?"

His chipper excitement is damn near laughable, and I chuckle, "My mom will want to spend some time together, and well, I don't know, maybe we could meet up around four?"

Sam sighs, almost in relief, and I am tempted to ask him why, but before I could pursue that train of thought he jumps onto the next thing, "That'll be awesome. How long will you be able to be with me?"

"As long as I want."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, _really_."

"So all night?" Sam asks; his voice a deep rumble that sends zinging signals to my lady parts. I like it.

"Uh-huh." I mumble as I remember his hands on my body, all hot and raw, needy as they explored. I bite my lower lip, rubbing my thighs together as I recall the experience.

Sam laughs, "By all means if you can, but good luck getting permission to do so."

I laugh as well, and say, "Well, regardless I will see you at four. I'll just meet you at your house, okay?"

I hang up after we have said good bye and I fall back onto the bed, letting my lids fall shut. I was so god damned tired. The nightmares were taking their toll on me and my health, and I couldn't go on much longer. I couldn't pretend like I wasn't having them, like I wasn't staying up just to avoid the freakish creations of my mind. I couldn't run on a minimal three hours of sleep every night and manage the Pack, Sam included. I walked through each day in that annoying groggy limbo that one achieved via lack of sleep.

There had been another animal attack, one that hit too close to home. The animal attack hadn't been done on the out skirts of La Push like the attacks prior, this one had been done directly on La Push grounds. It had been done in the woods close to Sam's house. These vampires were playing with fire, they were telling us they knew exactly who and what Sam was. They knew that he was Alpha; it was a challenge, one that Sam actively chose to ignore, for at least today.

I knew Sam and the guys were choosing to ignore the heavy events for the sake of me and my eighteenth birthday, but truthfully, I didn't want that. I wanted them to be real; I wanted them to be honest. I wanted a simple birthday; one that would be spent with everyone, my parents, friends and Sam. Unfortunately with Patrols and Pack duties, the chance of a gathering of any sort was slim to none. I had accepted that, and was more than happy to spend my birthday with Sam and Sam alone.

Sighing I leave the bed and make my way down stairs. The cool floor greeting my feet as I pad down the hallway and stairs makes me hiss. I step into the kitchen, greeted by my very chipper mother.

"Happy Birthday, my girl," She cheers, wrapping me into a warm hug. I wrap my arms around her waist, laughing as I mumble, "Thanks."

My Father, the quieter of my two parents, brings me into a one armed hug after my mother has released me from her hold. I wrap my arm around him in return and repeat my thanks when he wishes me a happy birthday as well.

I smile at the two of them, and I can almost feel my eyes gleam with delight as my mother turns and grabs a wrapped present for me off the kitchen counter. I grin and take it from her hands, feeling the weight of it and playfully shaking it next to my ear as to guess what it was.

Grinning I tear off the bright wrapping paper and shriek with delight when I see what is inside. A brand new pair of headphones, Monster Beats, specifically. I am sure I have a shit eating grin on my face but I couldn't bring myself to care. These headphones were fucking amazing, and I had had my eye on them for while.

I give my mother a hug, "Thank you _so_ much!"

I hug my Dad as well cheering my thanks and I squeeze his side.

After that my mother goes about making a big breakfast, allowing me to test out my headphones as she does so, bopping my head along to the clear music that is filtering through the headphones. Breakfast is served, and my mother chats about taking me shopping today, to which I agree. Shortly after finishing my delicious breakfast I get dressed and ready for shopping. I am ready to go and so is my mother so we head out, slipping into my mother's car.

We are in the car, not even for two minutes when my mother launches the Spanish Inquisition on Sam and I. Part of me wants to tell her that I didn't want to answer any of the questions, because truthfully I _didn't_ want to. I didn't want to tell her that Sam didn't love me back, that he didn't believe that I did love him, that he hadn't told me that he trusted me yet. I didn't want to boast about the absent wonders of the imprint because I didn't have much to boast about. Sure Sam and I had the basics, the electric touch, the emotional connection, but it was just that—the _basics_.

I wanted to be patient with Sam, which I knew I had to be because it was my own fault that I was in this situation to begin with. That alone was hard to swallow but I had to. I had to suffer the consequences of my actions, be they what they are. I had to accept the fact that he could not fall for me as easy as I had him, because I had given him no reason to.

Without trust there was no love.

I had given Sam no reason to trust me, no reason to love me. As sad as it was, it was heartbreakingly true. Sam didn't trust me and as an effect of that he didn't love me. How could I ask him to love me if he didn't even trust me? I couldn't and wouldn't.

This shit was fucked.

I felt hopeless and exhausted and frustrated and…and god, just so fucking weak. Between the nightmares and my relationship I was an emotional wreck with my feelings going bat-shit crazy from one extreme to another. I was ready to breakdown and stay broken because patching myself up and putting myself back together again was too much of an effort at this point.

**)*O*(**

We're in the Food Court with pimply teens and greasy workers, and my mother is still prattling on about Sam. I want to shove some of my poutine in her mouth to just shut her up already. Part of me feels guilty for thinking that, because really, this was the day she brought me into the world. It was a big day for the both of us. Plus I should be thankful. She did that shit au naturale. Like no epidural or anything. Shit like that should be admired, because I can't even begin to imagine the pain that comes with pushing an entire little person through your hoo-ha.

It is for those reasons that I smile and give her the flowery answers that she wanted to hear. It is for those reasons that I tell her that no; it doesn't bother me too much that he hasn't said those three words that every girl wants to hear. She pats my hand, tells me not to worry, and steals a fry. I nod, and try not to tell her that I have every reason to worry. I want to tell her that I really fucked things up, really screwed Sam around, and I don't even know the scope of the damage. I don't even know how he feels about me. I know he cares, how much? I am willing to bet a lot. But those feelings all stem from the imprint, the protectiveness, the need to ensure my happiness, the need to make me laugh, smile, all that shit. When will it be because he loves me?

That thought causes the poutine to stick to my throat, choking me; feeling like a dead weight has it slides down my pipe. I push away the poutine, and weakly swallow, trying not to think about it. I push the thoughts away, smile at my mother, and agree to finish up with our shopping trip.

I walk through the stores, surrounded by bright colors and silky fabrics. I purchase a couple of things, nothing too major: some t-shirts and a pair of jeans. We leave the mall, I feeling just as shitty, but I know my mother is happy to have spent some time with me and that makes me smile, takes some of the sting away.

It is three o'clock by the time we pull into our driveway and my heart feels heavy as it sinks at the thought of having to pretend around Sam. But I don't pursue the thought and instead carry on pretending like I have been for the entire duration of the day.

I pretend as I bring the new clothes up to my bedroom. I pretend as I put them away, snipping the tags away and peeling off those god forsaken stickers. But I stop pretending once the first tear falls. I stop pretending as I fall apart. I am no longer pretending as I sob and thrash on my bedroom floor. I am done with pretending as collapse in on my self taking everything with me. I wail. I sob. I silently scream. I let go.

The tears stop and so do the sobs. The ugly crying, wailing, sniveling jig is over. So I begin to patch myself back together, string myself up. I pick myself up off the floor of my bedroom and walk into the bathroom. I come to a stop in front of the mirror and blink.

My face is blotchy and red, my eyes bloodshot and puffy. I know that I am a mess. I know that if I am not careful I will fall apart with an audience the next time, and I refuse to have someone bare whiteness to my weakness. So with that looming threat on the forefront of my mind I splash cold water onto my face and begin to get ready to go over to Sam's.

I leave the bathroom and strip out of my shirt because it's all salty from my tears and wrinkly and shit. I slip on one of my new stops, a vintage t-shirt that bares the classic Batman symbol. I slip into the new dark-wash jeans as well, trying to ignore my headache from crying. I pull my hair down, because that's how Sam likes it and walk over to the mirror in my room. I look at my reflection and note that I don't look as bad as before. My face isn't blotchy, my eyes have calmed and I sigh with relief because the only way you would know that I had been crying would be if you got really close and inspected me.

I apply some mascara, carefully, because I really didn't want to poke myself in the eye. I've done it before too, and it hurts like a bitch. I put down the mascara and turn away from the mirror, grabbing some socks from my dresser. I slip them on and pad my way out of my room. I descend the stairs quickly, sitting down on the last step so I could comfortably put my combat boots on.

I stand, grab my leather jacket off of one of the coat hooks that are at the front door, and slip it on. I head for the kitchen, ready to make my good byes. My mother is sitting at the counter, nose in a book as per usual and I walk over laying a kiss on the crown of her head, "I'm off to Sam's, thanks for today, and the headphones."

My mother smiles, "No problem, have fun."

Earlier in the day my mother and I had agreed to allow me to use her car to get over to Sam's. I grab the car keys off of the counter and leave the house, jogging down the steps as I do so. I unlock the car, hopping in and starting it up. I make my way over to Sam's mentally preparing and steeling myself against another weak moment.

The drive over to Sam's was short and before I know it I hear the crunch of gravel under my tires. I drive up the driveway coming to a stop and I hop out, locking the car. I start up the steps and raise my hand, knocking on the wooden door. The door is swung open by none other than Sam and he smiles widely at me.

I smile back, ignoring the thoughts of today, because when I saw him, it gave me hope. The hope that I felt when I saw him and his feathery hair allowed me to think that someday he would love me and every urge he felt when it came to me was not because of the imprint, but because he loved me.

Even though the hope filled me, I wasn't going to lie and say that a knot didn't rise in my throat when he swooped down and lifted me into a twirling hug. I shriek and try to laugh to dispel the lump in my throat.

"Sam!" I hug my arms around his neck, my tone colored with surprise.

He laughs, stops and slowly lets my feet meet the floor again.

My legs are tangled up with his, my chest pressed against his toned one, and his muscled arms are keeping me there, anchored to the ground right there with him. He is looking down at me, a small smile playing on his lips, and I run my hands up and down his biceps, softly stroking the skin that isn't covered by his t-shirt. He is slowly leaning in, his thumbs brushing over the smooth skin of my lower back, causing me to shudder.

His lips meet mine, and as they do I feel Sam's warm breath as he whispers, "Happy Birthday, Bells."

I just press my lips against his. The kiss is tender and sweet as he brushes his own lips against mine, a tease. The kiss is made up of many, small little openmouthed kisses that leave me wanting more as he pulls away.

He steps back and entwines his fingers with my own, leading me through the house. I follow, questions flicking through my mind until we step onto the back porch and I hear a chorus yell, "Surprise!"

I immediately take in the grinning faces of the Pack, and one new face, a girl, Kim, I would assume and I look up at Sam who is smiling widely down at me. I smile back and poke him in the side, laughing, "Thanks! I nearly had a heart attack!"

He laughs, hugging me to his side and lays a kiss on my temple. I take a moment to look around at the backyard and see that it is all lit up by small twinkling lights and I look back to Sam, smiling as I softly thank him, "Thank you, you didn't have go to so much trouble…"

Sam cuts me off, kissing me swiftly, murmuring against my lips, "Hush. It was no trouble at all."

Sam releases me to allow the others to give their wishes while he sets up some sort of sound system thing. I watch him go, smiling slightly and shriek yet again when I feel Quil lift me up off the ground and into a hug.

"Quil, you buffoon, release me!"

"Buffon?" Quil cackles into my hair. "Lame, Bella!"

"You're dick is going to be lame when I knee it and your balls in!"

Quil laughs, jostling me in his arms before setting me down and patting me on the head like some dog or some shit. I scowl up at him and punch him in the stomach, laughing with him as he wishes me a happy birthday.

Jake is next and he mock-goes to lift me up as I snap, "Lift me up and you die."

He laughs, settling for a tight hug, "Happy birthday, girl!"

I hug him back, squeezing back and pulling away after I hear his stomach grumble.

He goes off to the table that contains food that I hadn't noticed before, and I turn to see Paul. He smiles down at me and grabs my hand, twirling me towards him, slamming me into his side, "Happy birthday, Baby B."

I smile, "Thanks, Baby P."

He laughs and I grin as he releases me, remarking, "This is going to be much different than your last birthday party, isn't it?"

I laugh loudly, thinking back to that night on the beach. It had been crazy, to put it lightly. We had gotten drunk, as well as high as a flipping kite. It had been fun and a blow out that left everyone with killer hangovers for the next couple of days.

"I think so, my boyfriend and your Alpha being with the Fuzz and what not," I drawl, and chuckle with Paul.

Paul glances behind him, "Embry's next, so I won't keep you."

I nod and he walks over yelling something out to Jake as he does so. Embry grins at me, and just pulls me into a hug. Embry had been the quietest of my boys, often the one who had the best advice and hugged him tightly, murmuring my thanks to his happy birthday. Embry, much like the other boys went on to the little buffet Sam had set up.

Jared appears, Kim trailing behind him. Jared, who looks like he doesn't know whether to hug me or shake my hand, fumbles there for a moment. I roll my eyes, playfully teasing, "What, you too afraid to come and give the snarky Bella a hug?"

He laughs, looking embarrassed and walks over pulling me into a hug. I playfully squeeze my arms that are wrapped around his neck and whisper, "She's really pretty."

He knows I am talking about Kim, and I wasn't lying. Kim was a pretty girl, about four inches taller than me with long black hair, big light eyes and high cheekbones. Jared pulls away smiling, at me, "Yeah?"

"Yes," I confirm. "Now introduce me to her."

Kim steps forward, and Jared brushes the back of his hand over hers, introducing her, "Kim this is Bella, Sam's girlfriend and Bella, this is Kim."

I stick out my hand, and she grasps it, babbling, "Sorry, I know I don't really know you, and it's you're birthday, I kind of feel bad for crashing your party…"

I am tempted to fuck with her, after all, it is my birthday, but I won't, sensing that she's one of those super sweet girls. Instead, I laugh, cutting her off, "Hey! No worries, you're Jared's plus one."

She blushes, glances up at Jared and he smiles back, both of them equally bashful. I laugh, and say, "I'm going to go grab a bite."

I turn away and I hear their quiet murmuring voices behind me. I smirk heading for the table of food and I have a plastic plate in hand as I sample the food when I feel Sam wrap an arm around my waist. I smile, turning towards him, balancing my reasonably filled plate and look up at him.

"Thanks for throwing me a surprise party, babe."

He leans in like he's about to kiss me but instead grabs a carrot stick dipping it in the small pool of dressing I have on my plate and chomps into it.

"Hey!" I object.

Sam swallows my carrot, "I just wanted to make sure it wasn't poisoned."

"Yeah, _sure_, Sam."

"What? It's true. I wouldn't be able to live with myself had that dressing been poisoned. What kind of boyfriend would I be?"

"A good kind, the kind that didn't steel their girlfriend's food."

Sam laughs, and grabs his own plate filling it up as much as possible before guiding the both of us to the little set up on the large back porch that had lots of seating. Sam plops down onto the couch, pulling me down next to him and wraps his arm around my shoulder.

I munch on my food, listening to the conversation flowing around me. I finish soon, placing my plate on the table in front of me and I rest my head on the spot were Sam's neck and shoulder meet. Sam drags his hand up and down my arm, warming me up—I had removed my leather jacket.

The conversation flows easily, and I learn that Kim is perfect for Jared. I can tell already that she'll balance him out, all babbling and sweet. I should find it annoying, I know that I would have had I not known about the bond that they shared. I was going soft, I remarked inwardly. But I knew that they would be happy, and I couldn't help but marvel at how well matched they were, compared to Sam and I. Sam and I were well matched, I guess if I thought about it. But with Kim and Jared it was obvious, he was quiet and she was talkative but shy as well.

Everyone is finished with food, and the sun has begun to set. It is quiet for a moment, but it is comfortable. The conversation has ceased and we all enjoy the quiet together until Quil loudly announces, "Present time!"

I smile and watch as Jake hands me a gift wrapped in the comics section of the newspaper. I smirk, and asked sarcastically, "Was the wrapping paper expensive?"

"Shut up and unwrap it, B. It's from all of us, the Pack." Jake commands, playfully narrowing his eyes at me.

I chuckle and tear off the wrapping paper that hides a pale white box. I remove the lid, and look inside to see a large bangle bracelet. It's simple silver bangle with a feathery pattern imprinted on it. I slip it onto my wrist immediately and appreciate that it's not overly girly. It's simple and I smile widely at the Pack, "Thanks guys, I love it."

They all smile back and I inspect it, bringing it closer to my face.

"It's real silver!" Paul playfully calls out; accusing me of thinking it wasn't during my inspection.

I laugh and shake my head at him.

I feel Sam lean down, brushing his lips against the shell of my ear as he murmurs, "I have something for you, but later, okay?"

I nod, and place a chaste kiss on his lips.

I hadn't noticed that Kim had disappeared until she comes walking out of the house, holding a tray of cupcakes, one of them housing a burning candle. I laugh as they all sing me happy birthday, and I can't help but grin as I blow out the candle.

Everyone grabs a cupcake, all the guys stuffing the entire cupcake into their mouths and I laugh at the sight. I am halfway through my own very delicious red velvet cupcake when Sam gets up to go over to the buffet table. Again. I chuckle as I watch Jared and Quil do the same and I turn to see Kim sitting on the couch cushion beside me.

"Glad to see you're enjoying your cupcake, they're my mom's recipe." She smiles.

"Really? You'll have to send that recipe my way, Kim, these are fricking delicious!" I smile back, and we're quiet for a moment, and I am surprised at how nice I am being. I normally don't bode well with girls because they're all whiny and everything's so dramatic and personal, like they'll keel over and die because you said something that they don't think is nice or right or whatever. That's why all my friends are guys. Sure they can be insensitive pricks, but they are straight forward. With them everything is direct, you say what you mean and get on with life. There is never anything too dramatic, no grudge holding.

"Wow," Kim sighs. "You're lucky."

I raise my eye brows in question wondering what she is referring to.

"To have Sam," She says. "I wish I had a guy who would look at me like that."

I am tempted to tell her that she should be careful what she wishes for because Jared will be looking at her like that soon if all goes well, which I am confident it will. I smile inwardly, and reply, "I know."

Kim smiles and we both sit there for a moment before I begin to ask questions about her as I want to at least try and get to know the newbie of the Pack, so to speak. By the time Sam returned from talking with the guys and more importantly, the buffet, I had learned that Kim was in two classes of mine and that she wanted to be a teacher. I also learned that she really liked Jared, and how fast he made her heart beat. I smirked at that, and nearly choked on my laughter when she said, "I'm surprised he can't hear it. It's so god damned loud with nerves that it's all I can hear and focus on when he's around."

Sam returned, as did Jared and the rest of the boys and conversation was resumed. We talked until the sun sunk low and gave way to the night, and the crickets were chirping loudly by the time that everyone had decided to leave.

I was gathering up some of the garbage when Sam stops me by grabbing the plastic cups and plates out of my hand and setting them back down on the table. He gently tugs on my wrist, brings me down onto the lawn, "Dance with me."

I smile, and lace my fingers together behind his neck. Sam looks good with nothing more than the twinkling lights to light up his handsome features. It paints him in a soft glow, and this moment feels all the more special with the soft lights and music as our only company.

I hear the music from the speakers set up on the back porch, and I hold his gaze, smiling softly at him as I stroke the hairs on the nape of the neck. It's just us in this moment and I know it. It's just Sam and I as we gaze into each other's eyes, appreciating each other. Our simple sway is in time to the soft strum of the guitar, and I lay my head on his warm chest, listening to the singer's poetic words.

_How fickle my heart and woozy my eyes_

_I struggle to find any truth in your lies_

I smile, nuzzling my head against his warm muscles and I am hit with how much I love this man. His arms pull me closer, draw me in further and I am all tangled up in him that I don't know where he begins and I end.

_And now my heart stumbles on things I don't know_

_The weakness I feel must finally show_

My heart stutters at the powerful words of the singer and I try to keep the emotions at bay. Sam, my sweet, sweet Sam, leans down and murmurs, "You mean the world to me, baby. I-I love you so much."

My breath gets caught in my throat, and I stop the soft sway of my hips.

"What?"

"I love you, Bells."

"You don't have to say it just because it's my birthday, Sam."

"Shut up, woman," He growls, pressing his lips to mine, "I fucking love you, okay?"

"Okay. I love you too."

_Lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all_

_But lend me your heart and I'll just let you fall_

_Lend me your eyes I can change what you see_

_But your soul you must keep totally free_

I smile, and lean up to kiss him. He meets me half way, smiling into our kiss as well. The feeling of elation that has swept through me is unbelievable, and I grasp Sam's face between my hands as he swipes his tongue along my lower lip. I feel like I could do anything. Like I could run a fucking marathon. I feel the shit eating grin spread across my face as I murmur, "Say it again."

"I," _Kiss_. "Love," _Kiss_. "You," _Kiss_.

"Thank you." I whisper, pressing my lips more firmly against his.

_In these bodies we will live, in these bodies we will die_

_Where you invest your love, you invest your life_

We return to our slow sway, our foreheads pressed against each other's. We're smiling like we know the meaning of life, and it feels like I do know it, as corny and dumb as it sounds. For once I feel truly happy, more than just satisfied. I feel truly fulfilled and I can't help but repeat, "I love you."

"I love you too, baby."

_Awake my soul, awake my soul_

_Awake my soul_

_You were made to meet your maker_

We're still softly swaying even though the song is over, and I look up at Sam, smiling. He grins back, and brings a hand to cup the back of my neck, drawing me in. His lips meet mine with a force that makes my heart race. His lips are hot and smooth against mine as they gently suckle my lower lip, causing me moan quietly. I turn the tables, pulling away and slamming my lips back to his, nipping at his top lip playfully. He groans, angling his head so that he can deepen the kiss. I feel his tongue lazily brush against mine as it enters my mouth. He languidly plays with mine, teasing me as he brushes his free hand up and down my side. I whimper, running my hands through his hair before tugging on it. He growls, sending vibrations through me, straight to my throbbing hoo-ha. We both pull away gasping for breaths and I release the tight grip I have on his hair.

We both pull away before returning to our slow sway that isn't really dancing. But I couldn't have cared less, because he _loved_ me. He wanted to make me smile because he loved me, not because of the imprint; he wanted to make me happy now, because he loved me. I smile widely, and lay a soft kiss over the heart that held mine.

**)*O*(**

It's midnight by the time Sam and I have cleaned everything up, and my eyes are drooping. I am just tossing the last plastic cup into the garbage when I feel my cell phone vibrating in my pocket. I pull it out, glance down and see it is my mother before answering, "Hello, Mom."

We go through the motions, and when she hears me yawn loudly she insists that I don't drive home. I argue with her that I'll be fine, that if it makes her feel better that Sam can drive home with me. She argues that he is probably just as tired and before I know it she has hung up, and has imposed a sleepover at Sam's upon me. I know she is a sneaky thing, and is trying to push Sam and I together so we can sort out the stuff I was thinking about all day

I am tempted to tell her that it's already settled, and I curse myself for not being better at hiding my true emotions that my mother probably sensed. I smile when I feel Sam wraps his arms around my waist from behind, laying small kisses along the column of my neck and down to my shoulder.

"I hear that you're spending the night?" Sam asks, his voice all deep and husky, causing my cooter to get all excited again, ad start up with the incessant throbbing.

"Uh-huh." I mutter breathlessly, too distracted by the hot kisses he has trailed up to that spot behind my ear, where he sucks gently.

"Well, we should get up to bed then, shouldn't we?"

His voice was right at my ear, all husky and deep and guttural, as it fanned out across the shell of my ear, hot and leaving me wanting. I nod dumbly, and Sam smirks at me, basking in the affect he has on me I would presume.

He leads me through the house, and I climb up the stairs, trailing behind him. Soon we are up in his room, and he lays a soft kiss upon my lips before walking over to his dresser and pulling out an old t-shirt for me. He hands it to me, and I get up onto the tips of my toes, laying a small kiss on his lips in thanks before dashing into the bathroom to change.

I slip the shirt on and bring my hair up into a messy bun before opening the door and stepping out to see Sam sprawled out across the bed on his stomach. I smile at the loose gym shorts he's wearing, and walk over to him. I lie down beside him, on my side, and run my hand over his muscled back. He makes a sound of contentment before reaching over to his nightstand and pulling out a box with a red ribbon wrapped around it.

He sits in front of my cross-legged and I mimic his position, smiling when he places the box in front of me. I pick it up, holding it, "Thank you."

"You haven't even opened it yet, and you are thanking me?"

"Yep."

"What if it's just a pack of gum?"

"It could be a stick of gum and I'd still thank you."

"Unwrap it."

"I am unwrapping," I say, tugging at the red ribbon. It gives way easily and I slide the simple white lid of the white box and peek inside. There, nestled on this cottony stuff is a simple ring, its silver band glistening.

"Thank you!" I kiss him.

"Wait, look at more closely, read it."

Frowning, I pick it up, and along the silver band is a simple inscription:

_You awake my soul_

I feel a smile spread across my lips as I run my thumb across the band, feeling the words. I slip it onto my right hand's middle finger as I lean forward so that I am on my knees and I press my lips against his, whispering into his slightly open mouth, "You awake my soul, too."

He kisses me back eagerly, falling back as I topple onto him. I straddle him, my arms on either side of his head, my hands deeply embedded in his hair as I kiss him. I run my tongue along his full lower lip, taking it into my mouth and suckling on it gently. He groans and I roll my hips, brushing against his growing boner.

All I can hear is the sound of our panting breaths and the dull smack of our lips as they join time and time again. I hear myself moan when he grabs my hips, all hot and needy, holding me still as grinds against my throbbing cooter. He rolls us over so that it is his hips that are on top, pinning me to the mattress. I let out this sound and toss my head back as he presses against me, causing my burning hoo-ha to throb with a vengeance.

He lays small, moist kisses along my neck, nibbling on my collar bone once he reaches it. I run my hand up his back and into his hair, keeping the other one on his warm toned back. I shudder when I feel his thumb brush over my hard-as-a-rock-nipple through the thin material of his borrowed shirt. He flicks it gently, slowly moving my shirt up my torso with his free hand.

"Oh…" I moan, allowing him to push up my shirt.

I arch up off the bed when his lips latch onto it, his tongue circling before flicking the tip. I make this strange sound that turns into a whimper the moment I feel his teeth gently bite into the sensitive flesh. My hips buck, my cooter throbs, and I try to keep it together. He abandons my chest, his way down my torso, nibbling and kissing the entire time.

I moan loudly, trying to drown out the pounding in my panties when he nibbles on my hip bone. My stomach does this nervous flip when I realize that he is going to go down on me. But Sam doesn't give me much time to consider before he pulls down my panties, glancing up at me, "This okay?"

I nod breathlessly, the fabric of my underwear brushing against my hot skin. I take in a breath of anticipation as Sam returns to is position between my legs. He runs his hot hands up and down along my inner thighs, dangerously close to my cooter. I let out a whine, and Sam laughs huskily, his hot breath blowing across my wet lips.

Sam gently parts my lower lips with two of his fingers, and without hesitation, licks the entire length of my throbbing hoo-ha.

"Ahhhungggh…." I moan out, fisting his hair.

He takes another clean swipe, causing my legs to clamp around his head. He pries them apart, pinning them down, "Keep them there."

I nod, and I nearly die when I feel him suck on my clit. Oh, that's good. I feel my eyes flutter close, and let out a low moan when I feel a finger circle my entrance. I gasp as the rhythmic sucking, licking and pumping attacks my nervous system, arching me up off the bed, and desperately moving my hips for release. He stills them though, threatening with a pause. I tug on his hair and he returns to my poor cooter.

I am just about ready to come apart at the seems when he growls. The vibrations jostle every nerve ending in my clitoris, and I moan loudly, submitting to temptation of release. My orgasm tears through me, leaving me raw and spread out as it leaves. I am panting as I return to awareness and feel Sam softly stroking my abdomen from his position lying next to me. I smile, and pull down the t-shirt Sam lent me, covering myself up as I roll over onto my side, nestling into his embrace. He rubs my back, and I ask, "Do you want me too...?"

Sam chuckles, "No. It's your birthday."

I would have objected, but truthfully, I was exhausted, even though I was mildly curious, and tempted to attempt a blow job. Instead, I nod, stifling a yawn as I murmur, "Thank you, Sam."

Sam simply presses a kiss to the crown of my head, smoothing the hair that lay on my back. I smile, yawning again, blinking back the exhaustion as the threat of my nightmares loomed over me. I could only hope that Sam's presence would scare them away, like it had this morning.

Sighing, I close my eyes, clutching Sam tightly as I mumble, "I love you."

**)*O*(**

The next morning finds me well rested and without a nightmare to chase away, surprisingly enough. I glance around, and see Sam sitting at the edge of the bed, head held high as he stares at the wall in front of himself. Frowning I crawl over to him, immediately sensing that something wasn't quite right.

"What's wrong?" I ask, my stomach churning and flipping as I waited for his answer.

"Harry Clearwater was killed by those god damned blood suckers, drained dry." Sam spat bitterly, not once looking at me.

My slamming heart dips low into the churning mess that is my stomach and I feel sick. The vampires had taken out a Council member. They had killed a fucking Council member. Drank his blood and left him drained. Anger coursed through my veins, boiling it as I fumed. I was so fucking angry. Was this just some game? This was our home, our community, they were playing with. This wasn't a game, this was real. All of their victims had families, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, daughters and sons. Did they not understand this? These people were _real_. They weren't just some warm bodied mammal for them to feast upon, to play with.

Oh god, my heart slammed against my chest, thinking about Harry's family. Leah and Seth would be a wreck, and then, my heart clenched painfully, Sue. I feel sick to my stomach as I ask, "Does his family know?"

Sam nods, "So does the Council."

We sit there for a moment, and I make no move to hug him, comfort him as I sense that he does not want it. Instead I stare at the wall as well, whispering, "What are you going to do?"

"Put an end to this."

I hadn't really considered what Sam meant by his words until I sat beside him on his couch, the Pack crammed into his living room as they discussed strategies. They were all equally angry, their animalistic growls more frequent, less tame. The anger was raw and many couldn't see past it, all of them hungry for the deaths of these vampires. I listened as Sam spoke, and in this moment, I truly understood why he was Alpha.

"Enough," Sam silences their growling and snarling anger. "We will hunt them down. Beat them at their own game. But we cannot do this alone. We will need the mind of one, it is for this reason that I have called in the Cullens."

Growls resounded throughout the Pack, and Sam pressed on.

"You cannot expect to end this by doing what we have done so far, look at where it has gotten us. I don't know about you, but I have too much blood on my hands already. The Cullens will assist us in finding and tracking them. I expect all of you to work with them, put your god damned prejudices aside and see past all of the instincts because if we don't…we fail and Harry's death will not be avenged.

"I want Jake, Paul, Embry, Jared, and Quil to come with me. We will be hunting these bastards down. Collin, I want you at Kim's house, and Brady, you will be here, with Bella."

Collin and Brady whine, offended with the jobs they've been given. I want to ask Sam why he wants me here, but I don't get the chance. Shortly after he gets up, bringing the selected Pack members into the kitchen to discuss the plans and where they will meet up with the Cullens. I stay there on the couch, not wanting to follow him, pester him, allowing him to be who he is—Alpha.

Collin and Brady get up and plop onto the couch seats on either side of me. I don't bother to look at them, and simply worry my lower lip, trying to think about anything but the nerves knotting my stomach into a shivering heap.

"Don't worry, Bella," Brady assures me. "I'll protect you. No vamp will bother you, not with me on watch."

I smile weakly at him, and murmur softly, "Thanks."

Truthfully, I had faith in Brady. I knew he would do what was asked of him to the best of his ability. I was more concerned about the Pack facing the vampires that had been spreading chaos like butter across La Push. My heart thudded painfully with worry and fear at the thought of Sam getting hurt, or any of my guys. I feel my lower lip tremble shamefully and I bite into, stopping it from is painful quiver. I steel myself, knowing that I must be strong for the Pack, for Sam.

Collin and Brady leave my side on the couch once they hear Sam command their presence in the kitchen. I hear him giving them the run down of their duties and responsibilities and smirk when I hear their eager affirmations of understanding.

The boys have dispersed, all of them spread throughout the house, heads bent towards one another in tense conversation. I walk past Jared and Embry, and head for the kitchen looking for Sam. He stands there, tall and proud, tense too, as he speaks with Quil.

"I want you on my left, and Jake will be on my right. Don't invade anyone else's space, got it? You all have individual orders and in order for this shit storm to run smoothly I need you to all cooperation."

Quil nods, turns to find Jake once Sam waves him off.

Sam meets my gaze, his shoulders relaxing, but only slightly. He lifts one of his arms; brings me into his side so he can comfortably lay a kiss upon my forehead. I close my eyes and hug his side, asking, "Why am I to stay here?"

"Safest place for you to be. I'll be close." Sam mutters.

Nodding I step out of his arms when I see Paul coming from the backyard, entering the kitchen, "The Cullens are on their way, Sam. We've got to go and meet them."

My heart lurches, thuds off time and painfully fast.

I walk Sam to the back door, clenching his hand as all the other guys follow, filing out with us into the back yard. Sam stands before me on the lawn, shirtless and I try to soak up the sight of him, fearing it will be my last chance. I wanted to believe that they would all return but heart still thudded with fear and despair so I simply hugged him close to me, and ordered, "Be careful, come back."

"I will."

"I love you." My voice cracked.

"Bells, I love you too."

Nodding I step away, and place a small kiss on his lips.

I watch them go, and shout out to their backs, "Kick some ass!"

I hear Jake's laughter, along with Quil's as they disappear into the forest, and Sam glances back at me over his shoulder, and he smiles, before nodding at the house as if to say: get in there.

**)*O*(**

It has been five hours. The sun hangs high in the sky, but my heart hangs low. I am worried, sick to my stomach as I prowl Sam's house, conjuring up all sorts of sickening images that break my own heart. They vary, all of them including a dead, broken Sam. I choke back a sob, my frayed nerves nearing the end of their resistance.

I step out onto the back porch, and note the dull sound of Brady's paws hitting the ground somehow comforting. But not comforting enough. I cry silently, my eyes, blurry with tears, search the tree line for Sam, hoping he'll magically appear. I wipe them away, and stop cold when I hear silence. No sound of paws hitting the ground.

My heart hammers in my chest, and I feel sick to my stomach when I hear a female voice croon, "How sweet! You're worried about your mate!"

My eyes sweep my surroundings, jumping when I find the owner of the voice, located right behind me. I step back, and feel panic cease my trachea when I see them with their fiery red hair and pale skin, but the most jarring thing of all is the black, hollow eyes. I feel my stomach churn uneasily as the vampire vanishes, a streak of red and white to my human eyes.

She reappears on the lawn, causing me to twist around quickly, earning a painful stinging dose of whiplash. I choke on my own breath as she speaks to me, a sickeningly sweet coo to her voice, "Are you afraid for him? Out there fighting James? You should be!"

She cackles, flinging her red hair this way and that, and I figure I should treat her like a crazy person, like my Dad taught me. Because for a vampire this bitch seems to be off her rocker. I muster the anger I have for this woman who is teasing me with Sam's plight and I snap, "Who the fuck is James?"

"Oh, you're angry! Always angry, little one!" She sings, dancing up to the porch and grabbing my wrist and pulling forward by my wrist. I wince at her cold, nearly deathly grip, and stumble.

She laughs low and I ask, "Who is James?"

"My boy. He doesn't like the games as much as I do, but," She sighs, bringing me to halt, and releasing my wrist. "He loves me so and he lets me play all the games I want! Like I have been doing with you and your little pack of wolves!"

She is damn near gleeful, and I my anger grows pushing away the fear as I stare into the dark eyes of this predator, "And how has the game been? Has it been fun?"

"Oh, yes," She says, smiling. "It's been so easy. Just a little snack here and there, but today, by far has been the easiest! You all reacted like I wanted to my most recent meal, and it was so easy to distract the young pup left to guard you! I just sent Laurent and he chased right after him!"

I grit my teeth against snapping at her for call Harry a snack but I can't help it and spit, "Didn't anybody tell you it's not nice to play with your food?"

She smiles and runs her hand up my throat, her cold touch making me shiver, "But it's just so much fun!"

She gets quiet for a moment, presses down on my pulse point, her nail digging into the skin as she cocks her head to the side as she listens to the rapid thrum of my panicked heart. She takes in a deep breath, closing her eyes, "I can almost taste the fear."

I shudder, squirming away; she licks her lips, tightening her hold on my throat.

"You're oh, so very lucky today, my dear," She whispers, looking at me with hungry eyes. I swallow thickly, my fear rising up like bile in my throat, nearly choking me. Ignoring my reaction she squeezes her hand and continues, "Because I am in a…playful mood. I like games, you see, and right now, I want to play hide and seek."

Shivers as cold as her touch run down my spine and I clench my jaw, refusing to show any fear. I wanted to be strong for Sam—oh, Sam, my heart ached at the thought of him. I simply swallow to the best of my ability wit her hand placing a sickening amount of pressure upon my trachea.

"When I release you," She smiles. "I want you to run. I will give you until I can no longer see you. Now, I will only do this if you don't scream, okay? Because if you scream, I'll have to kill you, and it's just so much fun with a little foreplay, trust me, my dear. Ready?"

I am paralyzed with fear at the thought of running from this woman, this blood sucker, but I know I should take my chances. So I nod and she releases me, "Run!"

I ran.

**A/N: Oh, cliff hanger! Uh oh! Any way my sincerest apologies for the slow update but between exams and last minute assignments, I really had no time to even think about writing another chapter for Boarders. Anyway I am so sorry. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter despite the open ending. **

**Please review, it makes me want to update a little bit faster. **

**Play list for Chapter 25:**

**Awake My Soul—Mumford and Sons**

**Dog Days Are Over—Florence and the Machine**

**My Boy Builds Coffins— Florence and the Machine**

**Bird Song— Florence and the Machine**

**Gold Lion—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Anyways please, please, please review and I promise to update way sooner!**

**Plus, it's summer and my updates will be more frequent and consistent.**

**Laters!**


	26. Chapter 26

**A/N: Hello!**

**Okay, first off, I went and saw Eclipse…and…by far the best movie yet. I really liked it, and was squealing during all the Bella/ Jacob moments, they were just too precious. Anyway, the Pack was looking sexy as usual! I highly recommend you go and see it, if you haven't seen it yet.**

**Thanks to all who reviewed, it is much appreciated. To those who added me to their alerts, or favorites, that is also much appreciated. **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter, and sorry about the cliff hanger! I just couldn't resist.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, ideas, settings of the Twilight Saga, it's all S.M's, no copyright infringement intended. **

**Boarders**

**Chapter 26: Ginger-headed vampires suck. Balls.**

Running from a vampire is hard as fuck and it sucks balls because you know you don't stand a chance. You know that even though you're running as fast as you can that it isn't enough. You know that if you slow for just a moment, stop playing the game, that she'll come in and end it for real. You know that it doesn't matter that your heart is burning, expanding, ready to burst. You know that you have to keep going. You know that as your legs begin to cramp that _you have to keep going_.

That is the only thing I can coherently focus on as I run through the forest. Branches snap at me, roots rise up to trip me, leaves reach out to slow me. The trees whisper as I weave my way through them, echoing my rapid, panting breaths.

The air is cold as I take it into my lungs, freezing them so I can only take in quick, shallow breaths. I make a sharp turn around a wide tree and turn my head, glancing back over my shoulder. I think I see a flash of white, sending my heart into a frantic, panicky thump as I am hit with the thought: this is it. But I push forward, cutting deeper into the forest.

My feet hit the forest floor quick and sure as they greet the ground. I know that I am running out of time, the panicky feeling of being chased gaining on me, attacking my senses, causing my trachea to shrink, my heart to quicken, my legs to cramp, but I keep on. I keep on even with the wind pushing against me almost violently. I keep on even when the trees blanket me, taking away the light.

I can hear only my panting breaths, which is most unsettling. I know she will give no warning when she comes for me, swiftly, coldly. I know I do not stand a chance. I know she will take me in her cold arms but I can't stop now, not with the inkling of hope that she has imposed on me.

I run as fast as I can bear, and I know that I am deeply imbedded in this forest, in this game. Sam's ring feels heavy on my finger as my arms move back and forth as I run and it makes my heart hurt. I feel tears building at the thought of loosing him, of leaving him. _We didn't even make it to mating season_, I think wryly. But that is not the point. The point is that at this rate I will never see him. My future is not bright, pretty much fucked if you ask me and I only have a limited section of choices here:

To stop, throw my hands up in the air and literally shout "Come and get me!"

To keep running, later pass out of exhaustion and awake as a meal.

To try and actually out smart this bitch.

I actively refuse to give up because if I do I am eliminating the small chance that I have of ever seeing Sam again. I know that I have to be strong, for Sam. I know he wouldn't want me to give up, to write myself off. There is this war raging inside me, the hopeful side that believes I can survive, and then there is the more pragmatic, logical side that knows I am running from death. I know that this crazy ass ginger-vampire will hunt me down and thoroughly enjoy it. I know that. I know that I may never see Sam again. I know that my body is failing me, giving up before I am even ready. It only leaves me with one choice but to try and beat her at her own game. I don't even know what the game is like for her. But I sure as hell am going to try beating her.

I slow my pace, stopping and resting against a tree when my legs feel like they are going to give out from underneath me. I begin to think about how I am going to stay alive long enough to cross paths with one of the guys. I feel a course of anger push through me as I am hit with the thought that I wouldn't have to even be here had Brady done his job and stayed. Instead he chased the other vampire that the Ginger Bitch brought with her. He was going to get an earful from Sam if I ever survived this. I push off the tree, and my shoulder scrapes against it, making me hiss.

But it gives me an idea.

Is it possible for a vampire to get confused? Possible to lead them off track or create multiple traces of a scent for them to chase? I hoped so. Without even thinking twice, I latched onto my idea, and ran to the next tree, rubbing against it like I had an itch before doing the same for the next five trees. I ripped the sleeve of my plaid shirt off, balled it up and threw it so it landed somewhere in front of me. I then proceeded to head in the opposite direction.

I pass the original tree I rested on and turned so I was running straight ahead. I stopped again, rubbing on another tree. I kept on like that rubbing on a tree before ripping my shirt off, leaving me in my tank-top. I throw it in the direction that I have been running in. I stand there, panting for a while and my eyes flick around the forest, trying to choose the safest direction.

Changing directions, I run on a diagonal and glance backward. I see nothing, and urge myself onward. I am hit with the sickening thought that I will never see Sam again, that I will never get to hear him say that he loves me ever again, that I will never look into those eyes ever again and get lost. Tears leak from the corner of my eyes and the salt stings all hot and wet as the tears leave tracks down my huffing cheeks. I gasp for breath, may heart aching for a much different reason now.

Panic wraps its fist around my heart, squeezing the life I have out of me, choking me. I choke on it, making this awful sound as I fall to the ground. I hit the ground with a dull thud, and a sob rips through me as I stand back up. I can't do this. I plant my hand on a tree and wipe my face, smearing dirt across my cheeks as wipe away the moisture there. I pull myself together as quickly as possible, pushing off the tree, breaking out into another run and trying to ignore the ache of my knee that I earned when I fell.

I am crying in earnest now as I run, huffing, sobbing, breaking.

I want it to end.

I want to just give up.

I want to let go.

Say my goodbyes.

Say an 'I love you' one last time.

I want to be let go.

I want to be freed.

From this panic.

From this chase.

From this game.

I stop, when I hear the vampire's voice.

She is almost singing, and my heart stutters, listening to her giggling, singing, gleeful voice, "Hear the loud alarum bells—Brazen Bells! What tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of the night, how they scream out their affright! Too much terrified to speak, they can only shriek, shriek!"

I gape in silent horror. I recognize the poem that she has chosen, and sob silently. She is taunting me with her choice, using Sam's nick name for me. I feel horror and anger rise up, churning, flipping my stomach as I break out into a faster run.

I know that she's not as close as she sounds; I know it's the echo of the trees that recite Edgard Allen Poe's poem to me but that does not change the panic that has returned, replacing despair. I push my self faster, running in a full on sprint, praying to whoever is listening when I trip. It feels like the fall is happening in slow motion and I grimace when I hit the ground, tearing my jeans.

I lay there in shock, before I roll to see a pair of feet in my peripherals. The delicate, most definitely feminine feet are encased in some, actually, nice boots. At least the Ginger-Bitch had taste. I glance up and there she is in all her fucked up glory.

I scramble away, doing this awkward crab walk thing to put space between us and she laughs, taking slow, purposeful steps forward.

I feel myself hit a tree, the bark of its trunk grinding against my back as I slide up, pressing against it as I watcher he lick her lips. She curls her lip, and continues her perusal, grabbing my neck, pressing me against the tree, and squeezing as she speaks, "In the silence of the night, how we shiver with affright."

She squeezes, and I wheeze, clawing at her hand, gasping for breath as I feel my feet leave the ground.

"At the melancholy meaning of their tone!For every sound that floats, from the rust within their throats, is a groan."

I choke, gurgling on the air I can get in with the pressure she is applying and I am tempted to beg but I refuse. I won't have my last moments as me begging a crazy ass blood sucker. Instead I close my eyes for a moment, and picture Sam.

A sob crawls its way up my throat, and it gives way.

"Such a good little pet," She coos, stroking my cheek with her free hand. "You've done so well, trying to play the game, and it is for that reason that your death will be less…how do I say this, slow? Torturous?"

I hiss, trying to jerk away from her hand, unable to bear the tenderness of it. It was so wrong. Bile rises, but I push it back down scowling at her pale face, big black eyes and fiery red hair.

She narrows her eyes at me, "You should thank me, little one. I will make it quick."

I let out a screech when he releases her tight grip on my throat, only to grasp my jaw, shoving it upward, bearing my neck to her. She runs her nose along the column of my throat, and it is surprisingly cold, making me shiver. I arch away, kicking my legs out and trying to push her off with my legs because now it is all too real.

I never put a lot of thought into how I would go, you know? Not once during this whole ordeal with the vampires rampaging their way through La Push did I think I would be the last victim. Not once did I think that my life would be taken by a vampire, I always thought it would be au naturale you know. Like when I was ninety, sitting in my rocking chair, cursing at the kids that dared to try playing on my lawn, sometime around then. I would go in my sleep, not up against a fucking tree by a vampire. But I guess this was a bit more exciting. I mean, how many can say that died at the hands of a vampire? Besides the select few that were snacks already. Not many. I briefly wondered how they would cover up my death. Animal attack? Hiker gets lost?

But I am hit with the thought that I am not ready. I want to sit in my god damned rocking chair, and swear at the children. I didn't want to be a snack; I didn't want a quick death because I had been just such a good little pet. I screamed and pushed with all my might, clawing at her hands. She seems to be a little shocked at my little spark of life, of anger, and not even knowing what I was thinking, I change my approach and raise my thumbs, pressing firmly on her creepy eye balls.

She screeches, having not anticipated my attack and grabs at my hands. They give way easily under her strength and I let myself drop, no longer being held up. I scramble away and she lunges at me, grabbing my wrist, cursing, "You little bitch!"

I see the attack coming and I use her own momentum to throw her off. How I did this, I'll never know, but you learn a thing or two about wrestling when your friends are all guys. She stumbles and it is enough for me make a run for it, but little ground is gained before I find myself eating dirt.

I feel her grip around my ankle, and cry out against the painful pressure.

She cackles, tugging me back, dragging me along the forest floor. I roll over, trying, fighting, yanking my foot out of her grasp, but I find no success. I earn another laugh from the Ginger-Bitch and I swear I am choking on my own fear as I feel her pull me up, tossing me like I weighed nothing more than a doll.

I hit the floor, and roll over with a groan.

"I was going to be nice, you know," She hisses, walking over to me and grabbing me again. "I was going to kill you quickly and swiftly, but you just had to fight me. Tsk, tsk, tsk, young one. I thought you were smart. I guess you need to learn."

She growls at me, shoving and pushing until I stumble and fall. I hit the ground again, and I know that the damage is bad. Her shoves and pushes are much more powerful than anticipated, and I feel the pain on my chest from where she pushed me. I lay there for a moment and try to get back up again but she kicks me back down. I gasp, my eyes watering with the pain that spreads from my side and out. I get onto all fours, trying to get up, to get away, but she picks me up swiftly before slamming back down into the ground.

"Fuck." I curse.

She laughs and I move to get up again.

She pulls me up and I sway on my feet. She grabs hold of my throat, yet again, raising me up so that my feet are dangling, not even brushing the forest floor.

"Has the little human had enough yet?" She taunts.

I spit in her face, "Fuck you."

I know I should be scared. I should have pissed my pants by now and be begging for the death she will deliver. But I can't do it. I don't want that to be my last moment. I want to leave this world knowing I fought for my life, knowing that I fought for my right to live. I want Sam to know that I fought for him, that I fought for my boys, for my Pack.

She growls at me, and launches me away from her. I scream as I fly through the air but it is cut off as my back slams into a tree. I flop onto the floor but I can't breathe. I feel my jaw hanging open, willing air to come in, to enter my lungs but I am left there retching for it. Finally, my body seems to catch up with itself and I drag some air in.

I shudder and I know that I won't get up again.

I hurt all over.

My heart.

My bones.

My lungs.

Fuck, my clothes even hurt.

I rasp a breath and lay there, huddled at the base of the tree. I am in so much fucking pain and I feel like I am going to be sick. I shudder, but even that hurts and watch as the Ginger-Bitch comes closer.

I know I am finished.

Done.

I will not get up.

So instead I wait.

I wait for the next blow and it comes quickly.

I cry out.

Pain everywhere.

Another kick.

I cough, groaning against the pain.

"Enough already!" I scream, tears trickling down my cheeks, clogging my throat as I plead. "Just do it already!"

"Poor little human, can't fend for herself!"

I whimper, crying as she taunts me because I just want it to end. She grabs me, and I hang there, limply like a doll in her arms. She has me in a dip, the position that dancers do, and has my hair yanked back, bearing my throat to her yet again.

I wait for the invasion.

Wait for the tear.

Wait for my life to leave me.

But it never happens.

Instead I hear a sound, but I can't move my head to see if it is help or her partner, James. I don't know if it's Sam. I don't know anything. So I just sniffle, and rasp, "Help."

"Shut up." Ginger-Bitch growls.

I hear another growl; it's a strong one, distinctly male, and their voice invades my ears, "Let her go."

Ginger-Bitch loosens her hold, on my head at least, and it flops to the side and she draws me in, closer to her cold, deathly body. I look at the interruption and my heart thuds because it's another fucking vampire. But they are helping me, and relief floods through me; it's a Cullen. Even in my state I know this. I may be in pain but fuck if I was going to close my eyes and surrender.

I take them in, and they are tall, but lean and they have the funniest looking hair—it's like the season of fall up there on his head. I giggle inwardly but it dies in my throat when my captor stands me up and poises her mouth over my throat, "And if I don't? What will you do? She's human, why does her mundane life matter?"

Her questions are quick, panicked almost, and I look around to the best of my ability, wondering why she is indeed panicked. I find that another vampire has joined us, but she's little, small and perky. The small, fairy like vampire is in my peripherals, slowly making her way closer.

I want to get out of the Ginger-Bitch's hold, wriggle, squirm, anything, but I hurt all over. I can not move, even bring myself because it is just that bad. I am in enough pain that I am completely reliant on Ginger to hold me up. I moan when I feel the pain in my side. Ginger-Bitch squeezes me tighter and something snaps. I cry out, screaming bloody murder.

The Ginger-Bitch hisses and the male vampire has come significantly closer, only a few more steps and he would be able to pull me out of her arms. I plead with my eyes, whimpering as I try to breath but I can't.

I can't take in any air without any pain. I try again, and pain shoots through me, spearing me until I am coughing and sputtering. Instead of salvia being sprayed, there is blood. I taste it my mouth. I look around in horror, and have never felt worse. I am surrounded by a bunch of fucking vampires. With blood trickling down my chin. Swimming in my mouth.

All of a sudden the male lunges for me, pulling me out of Ginger-Bitch's hold, and he pushes me away, and I am caught by the Pixie-Vamp who whispers reassurances that I am safe with her. But I am still scared. I am this whimpering blubbering mess as my emotions rage within my abused body. It hurts and I think I have broken a rib. I can't breathe, taking in only short raspy breaths.

She picks me up, turning and fleeing.

I close my eyes now.

I'm safe.

I am far from the clawing and tearing that I can only hear now.

I have survived.

So far.

But I know something is wrong with me.

I can feel it.

But that doesn't matter.

Because I can only think of one thing as this Pixie-Vampire runs at a lightning speed through the forest with me in her petite arms:

Sam.

**)*O*(**

I drift in and out of alertness.

I blink open my eyes, but everything is all bright. But what is most concerning is that I feel cold hands pressing against my body. I screech, loudly, but it doesn't seem to matter. They seem to be assessing me, checking me over. But the cold touch is too much, too similar to Ginger-Bitch's. I whimper, slipping back into the darkness.

**)*O*(**

I blink into alertness, the slow climb from the abyss that is unconsciousness long. I take in my surroundings: the beeping, the lights, the stiff uncomfortable bed I am lying on. I open my eyes wider, taking it in, and I conclude that I am in a hospital.

I wiggle my toes and fingers, taking in my now-alert-senses.

Thoughts come rushing at me, like a dam has been broken and I find myself struggling to keep up with myself. They come quick, flashing as they speed through my mind. What happened after I was whisked away by Pixie-Vamp? When did I black out? What happened to Ginger-Bitch? But more importantly: where the fuck is Sam? Is he alive?

I try to take in a deep breath but I can't, and I know this by the pain that I am experiencing on my right side. I glance around and find that I am completely and utterly alone. I am hit with a sickening thought, that Sam didn't make it out, that he got hurt. I feel panic bubbling, tears leaking from my eyes.

I stare up at the ceiling—it's blurry with my tears—and try to slow down. I breathe in to the best of my ability, which at this point are small little intakes of air. I just lay there, nausea churning my stomach as I take in the fact that I am by myself and don't even know what the fuck is going on. I don't even know what's wrong with me. I don't even know why I am hooked up to all these machines. I whimper, and wipe at my face.

I look around, taking in the sterile walls and fake plant-fern-thing sitting on the little ledge near the window. I note that there are two doors; one is beside a tacky, abstract painting which I presume to be the bathroom door and the other leads to the hallway judging by the ribbon of light at the bottom of it.

Just then I hear the click of the door, and my eyes shoot to it. I watch as the handle turns, slowly, almost too slow, as I wait for them to enter. I want it to be Sam so fucking badly. My hear thuds, and the door opens revealing Dr. Cullen. My heart drops into my stomach, and I wipe away the tears that have leaked from my exceedingly wet eyes.

"Glad to see you awake, Ms. Swan." Dr. Cullen greets as if his family hadn't saved my unlucky ass.

"I-Is everyone alright?" I rasp, my voice wavering. We both know what I am asking and he nods, "Yes, everyone is alright. Werewolves heal very quickly. They are all waiting, but I needed a moment with you."

I can rest easy, even though I will not truly be at ease until I actually see Sam. However, for now, I can trust Dr. Cullen and relax, if only for a moment.

"So," I sigh. "What is the damage here? I got pretty roughed up from what I can remember."

Dr. Cullen nods yet again, pressing his lips into a firm line, "Yes, yes you did, Ms. Swan—"

"Bella," I interject. "Your family saved my life, I think we can lose the formalities here, it's Bella."

"Bella," Dr. Cullen stands at the foot of my bed. "You did indeed suffer some very serious injuries. You have a broken rib, and as a result, a punctured lung. Now, the broken rib will have to take care of itself, but we will assist it to the best of our ability. We have given you what is known as a 'rib-belt', it is essentially a flexible band of fabric that is wrapped around your rib cage. This rib-belt will be given to you once you are discharged, for now gauze has been tightly wound around your torso. We did the best we could, considering. These measures will ensure as well assist your rib to heal itself properly. Now, I have prescribed you some pain medication as well as and NSAID, which is a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory drug. This will help you manage the pain that comes with a broken rib.

"Now, as for your punctured lung, thankfully it was not as bad as we had originally thought. This too will take care of itself and will heal over two weeks. The best way to treat both your broken rib and punctured lung will to be taking in deep breaths. If you don't it may result in infection, which is the last thing you will need.

"You will have lots of bruising due to how you were…handled. So do anticipate that. As well your throat will be tender due to the pressure it endured during your altercation."

I nod, not really having anticipated the severity of the situation. How could I not? Ginger-Bitch had dragged me through the ringer.

"Do you have any questions, Bella?" Dr. Cullen asks me, all soft eyes like a concerned father.

"What's my cover story?"

"No one knew you were brought in from the forest, we made sure that people thought you were brought in from Port Angeles and were here because of an assault."

"I see. I can not thank you enough, if you could pass my thanks along to…" I pause, wanting him to fill me in on my rescuers.

"Edward and Alice," Dr. Cullen smiles. "Bella, you should be proud. The fact that you survived…is utterly mind boggling."

I am somehow embarrassed, not proud at all.

"I just ran. I owe my life to Edward and Alice."

Dr. Cullen nods, and says, "Well, your parents are just desperate to see you. As is the Pack. So I will leave you to your visitors."

"Dr. Cullen?" I call, and he turns, hand poised on the door knob, silently awaiting my request.

"Could you give me a moment, and then send them in?"

He nods, smiling, leaving me to my moment.

I move to get out of bed, wincing as I do. My muscles are all sore, it's like that feeling you get after you haven't worked out in a really long time. I hold back my groan as I feel the tender ache as I climb out of bed. I walk over to the bathroom, stiff as a board. I pull open the door, slipping in and shutting it behind me. I flip on the light, keep my eyes focused on the ground and shuffle over to the mirror positioned over the sink.

I raise my gaze to my mirrored self and gasp at the sight.

My throat is patterned with bruises, all varying shades of sickening blue or purple. I lift the crinkly hospital ground and examine what I can't see. My chest adorns bruises as well, from where Ginger-Bitch pushed me. I have bruised skin peeking out from under the gauze that is tightly bound around my torso. My legs are all banged up as well from my repeated trips to the forest floor.

I feel my lower lips trembling at the sight and I don't even know why.

I can almost feel what caused the injuries.

I can still feel her hands clamped around my throat.

Squeezing the life out of me.

I can still feel her forceful hands as she shoved me to the ground.

I can still feel her tight hold.

Squeezing me.

Crushing me.

Breaking me.

The tears trickle down my face and I feel ashamed for being so weak.

**)*O*(**

My mother was a wreck. Sobbing and sniffling as she shuffled into the room. She poured over me, hugs and kisses galore as she swore up and down cursing Ginger-Bitch. I smiled faintly at that and assured her that I was fine. Yes, I had been scared. Yes, I was feeling alright, all things considered.

My father was a different story all together.

He was quiet as ever, laying a simple kiss upon my forehead, and in a voice—thick with what I assumed to be tears—said, "You done good, kid."

I didn't even move to correct his speech, because frankly, it didn't matter. My dad had been using that phrase since I was a kid, applying it to nearly everything. Tests. Report cards. You name it, he used it. I smiled up at him when he said that and nodded.

I was positively itching to know where Sam was. Could my mother not see that? Yet here she sat beside my bed, holding my hand in hers. I sound horrible, but I was physically restraining myself from asking her where he was. My body was doing that thing it did when its been separated from Sam for too long and it was an added pain and stressor that I didn't quite need. To be perfectly honest.

I was desperate to see him.

I hadn't seen him before the whole ordeal and I couldn't wait another moment. Or it at least felt that way. Even though Dr. Cullen had assured me that everyone was alright I still felt the strong need to see it for myself. I wanted to know that the Pack was still intact—present and accounted for.

I wanted to see Sam.

I wanted him to hold me.

Hug me.

Kiss me.

Tell me that he loved me.

I just wanted him.

I finally got my wish when my mother stopped her simpering and asked, "You want to see Sam, don't you?"

**)*O*(**

Sam walks in and my heart thuds.

But there are no words.

No words as I sit up in my hospital bed and raise my arms to wrap around him as he bends forward, taking me into his arms. There are no words as I cry into the crook of his neck, shaking as I take him in. There are no words as I squeeze my tired arms around him. There are no words as he pulls back enough to wipe away my constant tears.

His touch is warm as I remembered, and I shudder because I never thought I would feel it again. This thought alone brings more tears to my eyes and I whimper at the sickening pain that fills my heart. I cry out and he hushes me, murmuring in my ear.

But I can't hear him.

I can't hear him because all I can do is _feel_.

My body soaks up his presence, savoring his smell, his touch, just _him_.

I am trembling as I pull back, looking into those deep eyes as I choke out, "Sam…"

I am so far gone because I never thought I would make it here. I never thought that he would hold me ever again. I never thought I would feel his touch. But here I am wrapped up in his arms, in him. I run one of my hands up into his hair, re-introducing myself to its silky softness.

He pulls back, cupping both my cheeks, brushing away the tears. I gaze into his eyes, and gently tug him forward. He kisses me like we've never kissed before. It's hot and desperate, trying to convey what we can't.

He doesn't hold back, taking immediate control. He pulls my lower lip into his mouth, kissing it softly before suckling on it just as softly. He lays repeated kisses over my lips, hugging my upper lip with his own lips more than once. He runs his tongue over the seam of my lips before pulling away only to repeat the whole process over again.

"I almost lost you." He presses his forehead to mine.

"I know. I was so scared, Sam."

Sam growls, pressing a firm kiss to my lips as if he could wipe away the fear.

He pulls away, "I am so sorry, Bells. I-I didn't protect you like I said I would."

"Sam," I sigh. "No one could have anticipated this…"

"No," He says sharply. "It's _my_ _job_ to anticipate this and I didn't."

"Don't," I press my lips to his, whispering. "No regrets. No could have, would have, should have. What is done is done."

"I love you so much, baby, I don't know what I would have done if I…"

"Shh," I hush Sam, gently squeezing the back of his neck. "I'm here."

Sam pulls away, only to grab a chair. He quickly sits down in the stiff seat before grasping my hand. I lay back, finally feeling somewhat relaxed. I close my eyes and I feel Sam softly brush the back of my hand with the pad of his thumb. We remain quiet for a few moments before I get the parade of spiders marching all over me. This time I actually smile when I feel it, but my smile falls when I open my eyes and see the look on his face.

His dark eyes are focused on my neck, probably on the many hand shaped bruises that decorate it. I bring my own hand up, gently probing my tender throat, "They're just bruises."

Sam growls, trembling.

"Hey," I reprimand softly, "Sam, I got into a fight with a vampire, I have bruises. You can't get mad every time you see them."

He nods, clenching his jaw, trying to reign himself in. I see that he is struggling and I pull my hand out of his, "Go for a walk. Cool off."

He looks up at me with pained eyes, obviously having not anticipated my dismissal. I press my lips into a firm line, "I will not have you Phasing in my hospital room. Sam, if you need to, go, please."

I knew it wasn't true. I needed him here. No matter how blasé I made it out to be, I needed him to get his shit together and stay here. He nodded, but didn't make any move to leave. Instead he took in a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut, calming down.

I felt a touch of pride and patted his hand.

He grabbed up my hand again, plating a soft kiss to my palm.

"I love you, baby."

"I love you, too, Sam."

We slip back into silence for a while, him holding my hand and I can't help myself when I slip back into sleep. I was just so god damned tired. My dreams are not pretty, they're not even dreams, and rather, they are nightmares. I relive the chase, relive being caught. Her cooing voice and her cold touch. But in my dream I don't survive. Edward and Alice never show up. Instead I feel the life being slowly drained from me. Instead, in this twisted version of reality, I die.

I wake up in a cold sweat, tears leaving hot tracks down my cheeks. My hand is encased in warmth and I smile weakly when I see Sam still gripping my hand as he sleeps. His neck is resting on the rim of the chair, arched back. His torso and lower half are on the chair with his legs sprawled out in front of him.

I allow my head to rest on the bed and take in a moderately deep breath, wincing as I do so. The dream had felt so real and I bring a hand up to my throat, as if to check for where Ginger-Bitch bit me in my dream. I melt into the bed, wiping the sweat off my brow.

Sam begins to stir, his soft snores gone as he opens his eyes. He sits up, wiping the sleep out of his eyes, groaning as he arches his back.

"You should go for a walk, stretch a bit." I advise, watching him.

"No, no. I am fine." He rolls his shoulders.

I roll my eyes and let him be, not willing to argue over something so mundane.

We're quiet yet again, I, deep in reflection, and before I can stop myself I ask, "What exactly happened?"

Sam looks at me, caught between telling me to leave it—I can see it in his eyes—and the temptation of telling me the truth. I give him a pointed look, almost demanding that he tell me. Sighing he begins.

"We followed the plan, or at least most of us did…" He grumbles, and I know he is referring to Brady. "We were doing well, and the first vampire was taken down easily with help from the Cullens. But then Brady chased after the second vampire, and he…left you to _her_. I wasn't aware that this was happening until it was too late. I had to send Jake and Quil to help Brady with the vampire he chased. I was on my way back to the forest near the house to see if you were still there, but I knew I was too late when I smelled you and vampire. But I was lucky and the other Cullens had already made it to you by the time I chased down your scents. I made sure that blood sucker knew her mistake, I made her pay, Bells…she's gone. As her other…associates."

An unknown weight lifted from my shoulders and I nodded, relaxing a little bit more with every new piece of information. I felt a course of anger run through me at the thought of Brady running off like that. But it was short lived as I thought of the kid running off only to chase a vampire and hopefully take down said vampire on his own. The anger left me; it was instead replaced with concern.

"How is Brady? Now that you mention him." I asked, ignoring my tender throat.

"He is alright." Sam growls out.

"Sam," I brush my hand along his forearm resting on the bed. "He made a mistake—"

"One that almost cost me my Imprint's life!"

I had never heard him so angry, so possessive over our relationship and me, to be honest. I remained silent and allowed him to vent out his frustrations.

"I just got you, Bells," Sam chokes. "And for him, to just gamble with your life, with _you_ like that, so carelessly is absolutely unacceptable. I left him with you, to ensure your safety, and he did anything but."

I nod, speaking softly, "I know."

He looks up at me, his forehead crumpled with a frown, "What happened? I need to know, Bells."

I bite into my lower lip; did I really want to tell him? It would only make him feel worse and I wanted anything but that. He was already beating himself up enough already, and I doubted that he needed more material. At the same time I didn't want to relive the ordeal. I didn't want to tell Sam how I could still feel the cold touch, the panic, the threat of loosing him.

"She told me to run, I did, and she chased." I supplied, not looking at him.

"Bells, please." Sam pleads.

"Fine! I'll tell you!" I snap, my irritation getting the best of me. "I went outside, just to the back porch and I could here Brady, doing what ever the fuck a werewolf does. But then she was there, appeared out of thin or some shit, without any warning whatsoever. She told me all about her delight and playing La Push like it was some sort of game."

I hold my eyes steady, not looking at Sam.

"She told me about how much she enjoyed playing the Pack, teasing us, teasing you. She made it sound like I was the grand finale. She told me to run because it made the game that much more fun for her. I ran. I ran and ran and ran. But it wasn't enough and she caught up with me. She promised me a quick death because I had been good, according to her. But I couldn't give it up like that. All I could think was that I wasn't going to leave you, not again…so I stupidly tried to actually fight her. It worked at first, element of surprise, you know? But then she knew what I was doing and beat the shit out of me. Edward and Alice showed up and I was saved."

I looked over to see Sam.

He wouldn't even look at me. This is what I was afraid of. I was afraid of him doing this shtick, taking on all the blame, when in reality; no one could really hold him accountable. Sure, some could argue that he had failed as an Alpha and mate, but I couldn't. Sam had no idea that this was even a possibility, and therefore couldn't anticipate, prepare.

I didn't want him to do this.

But I was scrambling to pull him back in and watched with worry as he withdrew from me, pulling his hand away, cradling his head in his hands. I felt a surge of anger rush through me and I sat up, steeling my spine.

"Samuel Uley, don't you dare pull away from me. Don't you dare start this shit storm. The last thing I need is for you to go on a binge of this binge of masochism. _This_ _isn't_ _your_ _fault_. If anything, it's mine. I shouldn't have gone outside anyway. None the less, here we are. Yes, I got hurt. Yes, I could have potentially gotten royally fucked out there. But I didn't. Instead I fought for my life, I fought for _you_. So, don't you make it so that all my efforts were in vain by running through the long list of ifs, ands or buts that I know you have."

Sam nods, his jaw clenched.

He's sulking.

Great.

"Look at me." I command. His eyes flick to me, obediently, and it is in this moment that I am thankful for the hold I have over him.

I scoot forward, wincing and Sam sensing what I want, leans forward. I run the tips of my fingers along his jaw line, feeling the rough stubble grind against them. I stop when my thumbs are aligned with the corners of his jaw—the tips of them brushing his thankfully tamed sideburns—and my fingers are splayed on the side of is neck.

"I love you," I press a kiss to his forehead. "I am not ignorant to the fact that you are a werewolf. I knew that, despite what you say, that you could hurt me, inadvertently. I knew that. I _know_ that. I also knew that I could get hurt by other means that are attached to being yours. Albeit, I never really thought it would happen, but it did. Now, it is time for us to accept this and move forward but I can't without you by my side, Sam. I _need_ you."

Sam nods, cupping my cheeks as leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, "Okay, okay. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

"I will."

"Just kiss me already."

"Mm." He hums, brushing his lips against mine.

**)*O*(**

It's late, but I am still awake.

The Pack didn't get a chance to visit between my parents and Sam, but they'll get they're time.

I sit in my hospital bed and marvel at the fact that I am here. I never thought I would make it, yet here I am, in the flesh. I chuckle inwardly at the thought and dare to think that the worst is over. I know that I will feel the emotional echo of the havoc Ginger-Bitch reaped, but I am confident that with Sam by my side, that I'll be alright.

Who knows, maybe we'll even make it to mating season.

**A/N: Just a few more chapters to go kids. It makes me sad—knowing that the end is near—but we still have some more chapters to come. Please let me know what you all thought of this chapter, I wait with baited breath, this being my first vampire altercation.**

**Anyway, please review and thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed!**

**Play list:**

**Everlasting Everything—Wilco **

**Solitaire—Wilco**

**Hospital Beds—Florence and the Machine**

**Monster Hospital—Metric**

**Smokers Outside Hospital Doors—Editors**

**Gimme Shelter—The Rolling Stones**

**I Feel Free—Cream **

**Thanks for reading!**


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Well, hello again.**

**I thank you for reading and reviewing and apologize for the rather slow update but I was got quite busy. Anyway, thanks again, and I leave you all to enjoy.**

**Warning: overwhelming amounts of fluff lie ahead, and a small dash of angst.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own S.M's characters or ideas, I just borrow.**

**Boarders**

**Chapter 27: Filling in the blanks**

It had been a measly three weeks since my discharge from the hospital, and Sam was treating me like I was still _in_ the hospital. He treated me like I was made of glass, like I was going to break at any moment. It irritated me to no end because this is what I had lectured him about while I was actually in the hospital. I understood, really I did, I could fill in the blank all by myself—I knew why he was behaving this way. I knew that he was just as rattled as I was due to my tussle with a certain Ginger-haired vampire. I wouldn't go as far as to demean his feeling and tell him to _just get over it_, because it would be unfair to him. Both Sam and I were working through the physical and emotional echo of our brush with almost losing each other.

It scared me at the time—the thought of losing him, that is—but now, even more so. My altercation with this crazy-ginger-vampire made me truly appreciate what I had. It made me _think_. It made me realize just how badly I wanted my life with Sam. How I ever thought that a life _without_ Sam was better than one _with_ him, I'll never know.

I knew that Sam and I needed to talk, that we needed to sift through all of this and begin to process _together_. We needed to do this desperately because, truthfully, the last three weeks had been a whirlwind of action and time consuming activities. The Pack was always around now, constantly hovering over me like I needed to be watched, and forgive me if I didn't want to open up and have my heart to heart with Sam with an audience. Though, they _would_ hear about it later…But that is irrelevant because even though what went on between Sam and I was truly never private per say, I wasn't really interested in getting it all over with one go. It was kind of like combining your ice cream with your spaghetti just because it all went to the same place. Yeah, okay then—you do that.

Even though I knew I needed to have this conversation with Sam, I wasn't exactly looking forward to it. No discussion involving emotions between Sam and I ever went smoothly. So, you can imagine how I am absolutely dragging my heels when it comes to breeching this topic with Sam.

I don't even know how to approach it, do I jump right in?

'_Hey, babe, how was your day? Do you mind pulling your tampon out and treating me the way you did, before I nearly got myself killed? Thanks, Sam, that'd be just dandy!'_

Yeah, because that would go over _so_ well.

I also knew that being direct was the best way to do it. I certainly wasn't patient enough to beat around the bush, but at the same time I didn't want to be a bitch about it. I wanted it to be received as easy and as well as possible. I didn't want to seem like I hadn't taken his feelings into consideration because that was the farthest thing from the truth—I had been thinking about this (Sam's feelings included) for a solid week.

I wanted us to finally get on top of healing—my wounds had. My bruises were just about gone by now, with an exception to some of the nasty ones that were still lingering but weren't obviously visible. Thankfully the ones that everybody could see, which had mainly been on my throat were gone. My lung had healed fully and my rib was well on its way to being normal again—I could even take in deep breaths with minimal pain.

I just wished that Sam and I could do the same thing, you know? Like we could just go in and get a run down of what was happening with us, maybe get some advice from Dr. Vamp and be well on our way. Sadly, it wasn't like that, and life wasn't _that_ easy.

Life wasn't _that_ easy for Brady right now.

My heart went out to the poor kid, really it did.

He was in so much fucking trouble when Sam got to him—I made Sam tell me. It was worse than what happened to Jake after he nearly took my arm off. Brady wasn't even given the benefit of being young. In Sam's eyes he had royally fucked up as a Pack member and therefore should be punished as a _Pack_ _member_. Not a young pup. A Pack member. Apparently, not only did he get the shit kicked out of him, he got all the shitty Patrols as well. He was still getting flack for his mistake—the guys were refusing to let him forget it. It was getting better though, better than when my battle scars were still a visible reminder to the Pack.

Sam hadn't allowed him to see me at first, and I believe his exact words were: "You wouldn't _need_ to see her, make sure she was alright, if you had done your fucking job in the first place."

I saw him eventually though, and the kid was a mess—worse than my mother.

I remember when I saw him—I had just been discharged from the hospital and was being helped up the porch (I didn't need help, but Sam insisted) when he said, "I'm real sorry, Bella."

His little boyish face was all scrunched up in this adorably contrite frown, and I swatted Sam off of me, pulling Brady into a careful hug—weary of injuries at the time—and whispered in response, "Turn that frown upside down, B, I'm alright."

He giggled—yes, Brady fucking _giggled_ and repeated, "I'm sorry."

"I know." Had been my easy reply, and I hadn't looked back since, because I _knew_ he was sorry. I knew that he was torn up about letting this happen, and I figured that he didn't need me razzing his ass as well for his mishap.

School had not been that bad, between the distraction of losing Harry and tending to Leah, I was pretty much forgotten. No one really heard about what happened to me, it had been kept quiet—thank Christ.

However, Leah was a wreck. Shortly after her father died she Phased. I know. How fucked up is that? _Leah_ phased. Miss. Queen Bee herself now walking on all fours, and she wasn't happy about it either. Between grieving for her father and trying to come to terms with being a werewolf she was a right bitch. But I couldn't blame her, and it certainly didn't help matters that Seth—her kid brother—had also phased.

Seth was managing it a bit better because he didn't have to deal with being the only female werewolf _ever_. As horrible as it was I still felt my anger rise every now and then when she was in one of her moods, and it wasn't because she wasn't my favorite person—it was because she never respected Sam or the Pack. She harped and harped and just tore into everyone.

The guys never said anything, nor did Sam—they were to weary of the consequences. I, however, was nearing the end of my patience for her. I too understood that she was grieving, that she was processing in her own way, but I was tired of being her punching bag. Leah always went for me whenever I was around and I couldn't say anything because I knew that even though ninety percent of it was Leah being Leah, the other ten percent was coming from a much more serious place that didn't excuse my attitude.

I was busy in Sam's kitchen making dinner for everyone and I jumped when I heard the door slam. I waited for whomever to come in, prepared to tell them that Sam would be back from Patrols soon. I could tell by the foot steps that it was either Leah or one of the younger guys.

Leah breezes into the kitchen, her newly cropped hair bouncing a little—she cut it as shortly after she became a werewolf (she Phased back first, of course). She looks at me, sneering, "Oh, it's _you_. Where's Sam?"

"Patrolling." I say stiffly.

She nods and I go back to molding my homemade hamburgers into prefect round circles. She moves to leave, and I say, "He'll be back soon, if you want to wait."

I should have just let her leave, but somehow the words had escaped me before I could even think about whether or not I actually _wanted_ her to stay. She pauses and glances at me from the corner of her eye before snapping, "You can stop it now. Stop being so fucking courteous all the time, Bella, I know you don't give two shits. So just shove it."

I snap my jaw shut, and hold my tongue. I try to calm down because I know that my attitude isn't needed right now. I remain silent and continue to mold my hamburgers. Leah can't seem to figure out that I am trying to _avoid_ screaming at her because she makes another jab:

"What, the bitch as nothing to say?"

I stiffen and am about to say something when I hear the back door open. I release a breath of relief and thank Sam for his timing because I would surely be yelling at her if he hadn't shown up. He walks in and I can tell by the look on his face that he has heard everything.

"Apologize, Leah." Sam orders gruffly.

"No."

Sam opens his mouth to probably repeat himself but I give him this pointed look that says: _drop_ _it_. But I know he won't because she is intentionally undermining him, with an audience no less.

"It wasn't a request, it was an _order_. Do it."

She huffs, "Sorry."

I roll my eyes and just shake my head, knowing it wasn't worth it. I didn't need an apology from Leah, I didn't care that she had a few nasty names for me—I had just as many for her, if not more—but I did care that she was making me into her personal punching bag. If anything, I wanted that to end. I never bothered Leah unless provoked, and she was provoking me little by little.

Leah was quiet before she spoke, "I want to do different Patrols. I can't do mine anymore."

Sam closes his eyes, as if trying to organize himself, maybe stop himself from saying something he shouldn't. I watch this and my gaze flickers to Leah and I am mentally screaming at her: _can't you see he is under enough strain as it is without you wanting to rearrange the Patrol schedule?_ She doesn't hear my rant, and impatiently shifts from one foot to another.

"Why?" Sam asks; his stare curious.

"Because I don't want to be around my brother—I can't stand his thoughts, they're always about my dad." She snaps, as if it should be obvious.

I wince at the mention of Harry and finish off molding the last burger.

"Sure. You and Collin can switch." Sam appeases.

Leah just walks out then, letting the door slam behind her. I pick up the bowl that I had mixed my homemade hamburgers in and walked over to the sink. I am rinsing off the residue of the hamburger mix when I ask, "Why do you let her do that?"

"Let her do what?" Sam asks quietly, tiredly.

"Undermine you. You don't even punish her for it, Sam. I get it; she's dealing with some pretty fucked up shit, but what happens after that?" I say, beginning to clean the bowl.

I am glad I can't see him right now because I don't want to see the look on his face. I don't want to lose my nerve and give up.

"After what, Bella?" Sam snaps; irritation coloring his tone.

"After she eventually learns to live with her new circumstances, once she accepts it. She is going to continue to treat you and the Pack like shit. She's already getting accustomed to it, Sam." I warn, knowing that I was right.

I set the bowl down on the dish rack and turn to face him. His jaw his clenched—clearly not appreciating my advice—and his lips are set in a thin line. I look at him with raised eye brows, raising my hands in mock surrender, "You do what you think is best, Sam. I am just saying that it _will_ become a habit."

He growls, "I know, Bella. But what am I supposed to do? How can I not offer some slack when it's my fault that she lost Harry in the first place?"

"It's not your fault, Sam." I dismiss.

"Yes, it is, Bella. It's my job to protect the Tribe and I didn't. Not only have I been responsible for the deaths our people, but a Council member no less! How is it not my fault?" Sam yelled.

Anger rushed through me and I yelled back, "Okay, fine! It's all your fault, Sam! Have it your way!"

Sam growled and I could tell his patience was being pushed. We both had reached our boiling points and the last three weeks were spilling over the edge. I just glared at him. I was so fucking sick of it. I was tired of him taking on the blame just because he thought it was, because he was Alpha. But it was so frustrating because he was letting this get in the way of _being_ Alpha. Letting Leah walk all over him was only one example.

We were silent for a moment, until I broke it with, "Listen, I know you have this sense of great responsibility that holds you accountable for every single thing that goes wrong, but you have to let it all go. Because if you don't it's just going to get in the way and prevent you from being a good Alpha."

"I won't." He insists, leaning forward to grab my hand.

He takes it in his, is touch gentle as it has been for the past three weeks. My heart aches and I whisper brokenly, "You already are."

He frowns in confusion.

"Sam," I step towards him. "I told you that I needed _you_. You, Sam. I don't want timid or careful. I want _you_…"

"Oh, Bells," He groans, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me flush against him. The way he does it—no hesitance, nothing—tells me that he gets it. That he understands what I want, what I need from him.

He pulls me into a searing kiss, cupping the back of my head. I press up against him, wrapping an arm around his neck; the other is fisted in his inky waves. I allow my tongue to slip out, running along his hot mouth. He growls, sliding a hand to my hip as he opens his mouth. my tongue explores as I languidly slide it along his.

The passionate kiss dissipates and I pull away panting, "I love you, Sam, so, so, much."

Sam nods, hugging me to him, "I love you too, baby. You don't know how much."

I snort in disbelief and mutter into his chest, "I think I know."

He just shakes his head (I can feel it) and tightens his hold on me, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. I sigh and nuzzle in closer, almost trying to sink into his warm touch that I had missed over the past three weeks. As if Sam can read my mind he rubs my back, murmuring, "I'm sorry for the past three weeks…it just feels like I can't do anything right between Leah and the Pack and what happened to Harry and you…"

His voice quiets at the end, blending into the silence and I don't know what to tell Sam. I know that he's probably feeling helpless, and I automatically feel bad for criticizing him about how he treats Leah. The last thing he needs is me nagging him about how to be Alpha.

"You don't have to be perfect; you do realize that, Sam? No one, not even the supernatural, get _everything_ right." I brush hair out of his eyes, compelling him to believe me.

**)*O*(**

The guys were coming over to Sam's soon, as scheduled. We had Sam's back yard all set up for the barbeque: a table set up with condiments and such, paper plates, drinks in a tub filled with ice, and a fire pit that would be used later on in the night. We had all agreed a couple of weeks ago that we needed to get together and just chill, relax and blow off some steam.

Everyone was going to come over at seven—it was a quarter to—so I quickly dashed upstairs to Sam's room. I saw my overnight bag sitting buy the left side of the bed, where I would sleep tonight and tomorrow night because my parents were away. They had gone to Seattle to meet up with some old friends and were spending the weekend there, catching up. I was so thankful that my mother was allowing me to spend the night at Sam's. If my Dad had it his way, I would be spending the weekend by myself with a police officer posted outside my house.

My Dad had gone crazy protective after what happened and was scared to leave me by myself. My mother, who was also worried, or more anxious than usual, knew that I would be safe with Sam for the weekend. Although, she did tell me to _be safe_—and I didn't think that she meant to be weary of vampires if you catch the meaning.

I didn't even know if Sam and I would go there. I mean it came with a heavy precedence—I would be Marked after, or if, I did the horizontal tango with Sam. I felt ready, or whatever 'ready' was. I knew that I wanted to confirm my relationship with Sam and truly give myself over, however, the past three weeks had been, well, you know.

I grabbed my hair brush from my bag and quickly rain it through my hair, tugging out the knots that Sam's fingers had woven during our make-out session. I put it back into the bag, zipping it shut before leaving Sam's room. I make my way downstairs and am headed for the kitchen when I hear the door open.

Of course, I glance at the clock—it's ten to seven and Quil is walking through the door. He looks really freaked out, mildly distressed. I look him over—something's most definitely wrong.

"What's up, man?" I ask.

Quil shakes his head and asks, "Where's Sam?"

"Right here." Sam rumbles, wrapping an arm around my waist. I allow him to pull me into his side—his bare side I might add. I know, the man walks around shirtless all the time.

"I imprinted." He blurts out. I frown in confusion—why is he so upset then?

"Congratulations! But you aren't happy, because?" Sam asks, speaking both of our minds.

"Because she's fucking two years old!" Quil spits.

I tried, I really did. I tried so hard to hold back the laughter, but I couldn't. It came forth, ripping through me as I shook with the force. I know I really should be a bit more sympathetic, but really, it's just too rich. Quil, the over grown child—imprints on a kid! I shake my head, wheezing, "I'm sorry, but, this is just too much!"

Quil growls and Sam tucks my shaking body further into his side in response. I catch my breath, "Quil, she's perfect for you…she's a kid."

Sam chuckles and advises, "However inconvenient for you, Quil, she's meant _for_ you. You're just going to have to wait."

Quil groans, "I know…but she's two, Sam. Two."

"What's her name?" I ask curiously.

"Claire." Quil sighs.

I smile at him and step out of Sam's arms to give him a hug. Quil wraps his arms around me, "I don't know what I am going to do, Bella."

I squeeze my arms around him, whispering, "You're going to be her best friend, for now."

He nods before setting me down. I step back and watch as he moves around me to shake hands with Sam (in congratulations, I guess?). Sam starts to talk to him about it, imprinting that is, and I watch as he leads Quil into the kitchen. I follow in, and pull out the plates of home made hamburgers that are ready to be cooked.

I listen half heartedly and try not to get lost in my own thoughts. I almost couldn't help myself and my mind instantly latched on to _being_ with Sam. By being I mean the horizontal tango. I wanted to, and not just because my hormones went bat shit crazy and he made my hoo-ha get all excited when he merely looked at me.

I looked Sam over and tried to assess if he felt the same way. Did he want to as badly as I wanted to? Did he want to be mine as fully as I wanted to be his? I couldn't tell by the way he was sitting of course, but part of me was content in thinking that he did too.

Sam's front door opens yet again and Quil gives me this look that says: Don't-Say-Anything-Because-I-Don't-Want-Them-To-Know-Yet. I nod slightly acknowledging him before glancing out of the corner of my eye at the guys entering the kitchen.

The Pack piles in (all except Leah) and I smile when I see Kim and Jared walk in hand in hand. She blushes when she catches my stare and I can tell by the look about her that she _knows_. I shift my gaze over to Jared and raise my eye brows in question and he smiles, nodding as he releases her hand only to go and talk to Sam. I watch as Quil vacates his spot beside Sam only to have Jared fill it. Sam sighs, settling back down and glancing over at me as if to apologize. I just give him a small but encouraging smile before turning away to put out an assortment of snacks.

Kim ambles over looking at all of the guys curiously. I snort and say to her, "You can't tell just by looking at them, can you?"

"No." She answers, scowling.

"To the outside world they're just super fit guys, who look like they live at the gym and look way older than they really are. No real indication of the supernatural. At all." I drawl, pulling some dip for the potato chips I had set out on the counter.

She giggles and says, "Is it weird that I am actually kind of happy about all of this? About being an imprint? How did you feel?"

I snort, "Not happy, that's for sure."

She looks worried, "How did you feel then?"

"At first?" I glance over and she nods. "Pissed. I was angry that I had to stay here because of Sam. I had no choice in the matter at all and this new development completely threw my plans to get out of La Push out the window. So at first, I wasn't a happy camper but over time…I got to know Sam for more than the cop that arrested me and spoiled all my summer nights. I began to see him as more, see La Push as something other than a prison, and somewhere along the way I fell for him."

She smiles at Jared, and looks over at me before she asks, "How'd you and Sam meet?"

"He arrested me." I dead-pan.

She laughs, as does Brady and Collin who had been clearly eaves-dropping. I roll my eyes, "Yeah, ha, ha. Hilarious."

I feel Sam wraps his arms around my waist from behind, laying a kiss on the nape of my neck, his voice deep as he murmurs in my ear, "I believe the first time I met you, you called me a pervert of all things."

That only makes everyone laugh some more and I chuckle, shaking my head as I turn in Sam's arms to face him. He plants a chaste kiss on my lips and I hear Jake's voice calling out, "Hey, keep it rated G you two!"

Instead I press my lips against Sam's more firmly, flipping Jake the bird. He lets out this booming laughter and I smirk against Sam's lips. He pulls away, light dancing in his eyes. I smile back before stepping out of his arms and shoving a plate of burgers into his arms, "To the barbeque, baby."

He smirks and places a kiss on my forehead. I give the other four plates with the homemade burgers to Jake and Quil who follow Sam outside. The guys follow, all but Brady who hangs back looking at me with guilty eyes—he does this a lot. He feels the need to stick around but ends up wanting to hang out with the Pack too. I roll my eyes at him before ordering, "Out. I need someone to make sure Sam doesn't burn my burgers."

He smiles brightly, leaving Kim and I in the kitchen. I begin to wipe down the counters before pausing mid-swipe and meeting her gaze, "Kim, you do realize that if you have any questions about this whacked life that you can come to me, right?"

"Oh, thank God." She sighs and slumps down into one of the kitchen chairs.

I smirk at her, "Got some already, do you?"

"You have no idea."

I snort out my objection and she chuckles, folding her arms neatly on the countertop. I continue wiping down the counters and wait as she organizes her thoughts. It is painfully obvious by the meeting of her eyebrows that Kim is deep in concentration. Eventually she asks, "Does it always hurt to be separated from each other?"

I wince, thinking back to when I had _chosen_ to be separated from Sam. "Depends. At the beginning of the relationship, yes. It's because everything is all new and fresh and you guys really start to rely on each other. If you aren't with each other for an extended period of time you will experience pain as well. But it's a bitch if you actually _choose_ to be separated from him."

"You chose to be away from Sam?" Kim asks, as if it were like asking the stars to exist without the moon.

"Yup." I supply, resting my palms on the counter top as I answer her question.

"Why?"

I wince, "I'd rather not."

She nods, but looks mildly hurt. It's like I've shot Bambi by the look on her face and I roll my eyes, "I was scared and told him to stay away."

She nods and thank all things that are holy; she doesn't pry and ask for some more details. We are silent before I say, "Well, I think we should join the guys outside, unless you have anymore questions?"

"Is it always going to be like this?" Kim asks; her voice small.

"Like what?"

"So intense."

"Well, I've been with Sam, for what? A month or so? I can't really answer your question. But I can tell you that your heart beats just as fast after a month."

Kim laughs and it settles down as she murmurs, "Thanks, Bella."

"No problem. Now help me bring all this crap outside." I order, picking up a plate of snacks. I grab another and Kim picks up the last two before we walk outside. I set them down on the table and Brady, Collin and Seth are all over them, eating their hearts out already. I roll my eyes and walk down the steps, advising to Kim, "Learn how to cook in big proportions."

She chuckles and I walk over to the bucket of drinks, shivering when my hand is momentarily enveloped in the icy water as I pull out a can of Coca-Cola. Kim grabs a Sprite and we walk over to where all the guys are crowded around the barbeque, plunking ourselves down into the lawn chairs Sam had put their earlier in the day.

I open my drink, listening to the _pop_-_hiss_ as Kim remarks, "This is so cool."

I laugh, "What?"

"It's like we're in a secret organization, you know? Like the C.I.A but werewolves?" She thinks out loud.

I snort, taking a sip of my drink, "I tend to think of as knowing the biggest secret La Push has. I mean, I have to agree, I am pretty happy to be residing in the world of the supernatural, opposed to the world of ignorance."

She nods, "I like your version better."

We both laugh at that and start chattering about nothing. The conversation flows easily until I feel something cold slide down my back. I jump of my chair shrieking as wriggle trying to dislodge the cold thing making its way down my back. It plops onto the ground and I see that it's an ice cube. My cheeks flame with anger as I see Jake cackling behind my chair. My eyes narrow, "You little shit."

Jake laughs harder as does everyone else and without a second thought I make my slow approach. Jake is gasping for air, "Sorry, Bella…I…just couldn't resist!"

I nod, "I completely understand."

And I did. I completely understood as grabbed a bottle of water from the bucket of drinks before twisting the cap off and emptying its entire contents on him. Jake shudders from the cold, slicking back his wet hair, "Oh, you're going to get it, Bella!"

I laugh and make a run for it. I feel him chasing me and I move to hide behind Sam who is shaking with laughter. Jake stops in front of Sam, wet and laughing as he tries to sneak around him to grab me. Sam holds him back as I calm myself and my laughter.

I peek out behind Sam and stick my hand forward, "Truce?"

Jake nods, gripping my hand as he pulls me forward, "Let's make up and hug."

I laugh as I feel myself enveloped in a very wet hug. He squeezes me, making sure I pick up some moisture, "Ah, best friends."

I chuckle, "Okay, okay, enough bonding! You're all wet!"

"That's was _she_ said!" I hear Quil call out from my left,

I laugh and Jake releases me. Everyone is laughing and I look down at my grey V-neck—I had wet splotches all over my lovely shirt. I groan and slug Jake on the shoulder playfully, "Thanks, Bud."

I return to Sam, wrapping an arm around his waist before inquiring, "How are the burgers coming along?"

"Good, good." He replies, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer.

Always pulling me closer.

**)*O*(**

We're all crowded around the fire pit; hands struck forward holding sticks that hold marshmallows over the warm fire. The fire's licking flames paint Sam in a warm glow, making his skin look even better than it normally does. I unconsciously lick my lips and Sam, from his position next to me squeezes my knee, murmuring in my ear lowly, "I can smell you."

I shiver, and he chuckles, tucking me further into his side. I rub my thighs together; some friction would be great now if you asked my cooter. I try to focus on my marshmallow and ensuring that it is a perfect golden brown, but I can't with the throbbing between my legs. I struggle and yank my marshmallow out when I see that it has caught fire. I am quick to blow it out, trying to save my charred marshmallow.

"Having trouble focusing, baby?" Sam asks, his hot breath fanning out across the shell of my ear. I clench my jaw against a painful throb from my nether regions in response to his rough voice. It feels like sand paper against my skin, rough and raw. I want to know what it feels like in other places.

I turn my face and Sam is close, his eyes alight with mischief. I smirk, leaning in so that it is my mouth against his ear. I place my hand on his leg, moving it up high, so that the tips of my fingers are dangerously close to touching his boner, "Yes and if you're not careful you will too."

I playfully bite his ear lobe as I pull away my hand and pluck my burnt marshmallow off my stick before popping it into my mouth. Despite the fact that it was burnt—which I didn't mind a whole lot—it was a pretty good. I hear Sam chuckle, "Game on."

My heart throbs in time with my cooter, excitement coursing through the both of them. I shiver mildly and feel him wrap an arm around my waist, squeezing it gently. I snuggle closer into his side, placing a hand on his knee. I feel him take in a deep breath and I smirk—this is just the beginning of our little game.

Sam, as if sensing this, begins to run his hot touch up and down my side and it's all innocent at first. Until he "accidently" brushes the side of my breast, causing my nipples to strain against my bra and cooter to dampen my underwear some more. I hiss and Sam chuckles, drawing his hand down my side, awakening every nerve that strains forward to absorb the heat of his touch. It leaves a tingling trail, and I tremble, a shock running down my spine.

I decide that he needs a taste of his own medicine so I lean across him, my arm accidently brushing against his boner as I reach for the bag of marshmallows by his foot. I come back up and whisper, "Oops."

He growls low in his throat, and delight travels fast through me along with a bolt of desire. I giggle but it dies in my throat when he leans down to my ear yet again, a growling, "You'll pay for that, baby."

"Looking forward to it." I murmur and slide the marshmallow onto my stick before holding it over the fire.

Sam and I turn our focus back to the Pack and actually participate in the conversation for the rest of the night. The conversation is easy and endless until about midnight when Brady yawns and says that he's going to head home. We all nod and watch as Collin—Brady's shadow—Collin goes everywhere Brady goes—gets up to follow Brady. They fade into the night after giving their good byes.

Jared and Kim leave shortly after with the rest of the guys and I give Kim a hug, "If you ever need to talk, come and find me."

She nods and walks off, hand in hand with Jared. I smirk and give my good byes to the rest of the Pack and tell Quil that everything will be fine. He snorts but goes with a smile on his face.

It's down to just Sam and I now.

I delicious shiver of desire runs down my spine and I glance over my shoulder to see his dark eyes on me. I bite my lip before saying, "Clean up time."

We both begin to clean up and it doesn't take long. I collect the garbage and plates as Sam takes care of the fire and the barbeque. I am just setting the last plate in the dish washer, bent over as I place it in the rack so that it lined up with the other plates when I feel hot hands grasp my hips and something very hard pressed into my backside. I slowly unfold myself so that I am standing, and I press my hips back, grinding into Sam.

He groans and holds me still before bring his hand up to brush my hair off of my neck, moving it all to my left shoulder. He leans down, placing a hot kiss on the nape of my neck, his tongue flicking out to taste my skin. I shiver his arms, and whimper, trying to move my hips to get some friction that my throbbing hoo-ha was begging for.

He growls, squeezing the hip his left hand held, telling me to be still. I let my eye lids droop closed and let out quiet moan when he kisses my skin again, this time behind my ear. He stays there a moment, his hot lips on my skin before he pulls away to whisper, "Tonight you're mine."

My breath gets caught in my throat but I nod all the same. A flutter of excitement and nerves over powers my arousal for just a moment. He presses me into the counter beside the dishwasher, his arms forming a cage with his hands positioned on either side of me. He leans forward, making my heart thrum and a tingle of hot arousal shoot to my groin. I look up into his eyes, so close in their hooded lust. He presses his lips to mine; they are hot, burning me, branding me. He slides his tongue across the seem of my lips and I open my own mouth. His tongue lazily plays with mine before he pulls away only to leave a trail of kisses up to the corner of my jaw.

He pauses there, nibbling lightly and I shudder in response. I run my hands up his chest, enjoying the feel of the smooth muscles that clench under my touch. I wrap an arm around his neck, the other resting on the opposite shoulder. He brings his mouth to my neck, a long open mouthed kiss that has me moaning quietly. I know he is leaving a mark, and that is only confirmed when I feel him bite the skin gently, but hard enough to make me cry out in both pain and pleasure. He licks the spot to soothe the burn before kissing down the column of my neck.

His mouth is back on mine and I feel his lips hot and heavy as his hand moves down to cup the back of my right knee. He raises it up sharply, aligning us perfectly. He groans, pulling away and dropping his head to my shoulder as I grind against his hard on. The friction is the sweetest torture, but it's just not enough and I whimper, moving faster, harder. I turn my head, my lips just brushing the shell of Sam's ear as I whisper hotly, "Upstairs."

He snaps his head back, looking into my eyes, "Are you sure?"

We both know that we're not going upstairs just to make out. We both know that he's asking so much more, asking if I really do want to confirm this bond. I nod quickly, eagerly, pressing my lips to his, whispering, "I am."

He sets my leg down—my cooter immediately missing the delicious friction—and grabs my hand. His fingers are entwined with his and he wordlessly leads me out of the kitchen. We pass the living room and begin the slow climb up the stairs.

We finally reach his room and he flicks the light on, tugging me inside and turning to face me. we're standing, facing each other now, and he smiles down at me, cupping my cheeks as he murmurs, "I love you, baby."

"I love you too." I kiss his palm.

He bends forward, pressing his lips to mine. This kiss is different from the one in the kitchen, less hurried, more love than lust, but just as passionate. He is slow as he kisses me, gentle and kind and everything that makes me melt into his arms. I kiss him back, meeting his love and lust with my own.

I feel one of his hands slide up into my hair, angling my head so he can deepen the kiss. I moan quietly, stepping closer and mimicking my motions from the kitchen—sliding my hands up his chest to wrap around his neck. I feel the heat of his touch as it slides down my back, stopping at the base of it to guide me closer, pressing me against him.

Every nerve feels like it is alive—some more than others, especially my cooter's nerves—and yearning for Sam. He pulls away, pressing his forehead to mine and slowly walking me backwards. He can see where we're going but I can't until feel my knees hit the soft comforter on his bed.

I take my cue and lay back on the bed. He lays over top of me, his forearms by my bead. I smile softly, bringing my hand up to touch his cheek, my fingers gentle as they trace the path of his cheek bone.

I am quiet as I look into those deep, clearly honest eyes and I don't know what it is, but this emotion swells up inside me, filling me to the brim. I bite my lower lip, tucking it in as I am overwhelmed by the gratitude I have for this man.

Thankful, really.

Thankful for him putting up with me.

For sticking by me long enough to see who I was without all the curse words and cigarettes.

For allowing me to be me.

For loving me.

"Hey," Sam pulls my bottom lip out from between my teeth, gently brushing his thumb over it. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just thinking." I supply, cupping his cheek.

"Hmm, sounds like trouble." He growls playfully, kissing me.

I sigh into his mouth, drawing my legs up so that they are entwined with his, holding him to me. He begins to kiss all down my neck, murmuring sweet things that make me love him even more.

He pulls back, grasping the edge of my T-Shirt. He peels it off of me after my breathless nod of approval. I am left before him in my bra, but I arch up off the bed, unclasping it before removing it and tossing it in the general area of my right. He groans at the sight, "Beautiful. You're so beautiful, Bells."

I smile at his words, gentling pulling him down to me. He kisses me again, soft and sweet but it doesn't last long. He runs his hands up my sides, teasing me with his absent touch as he gently brushes the side of my breasts. He runs his hot touch all over—my stomach, my sides, my ribcage, my collar bone, basically everywhere but where I want them. His touch leaves a fiery trail that only causes me to dampen my panties even more.

After what feels like forever he gently cups my breasts, causing me to whimper and arch off the bed for more. He seems to be giving them his undivided attention now and my cooter is crying out in desperate need of his attention.

The heat of his touch is almost unbearable paired with the throbbing between my legs and I gasp when I feel his thumb brush over my nipple. The sensation sends a thrill of pleasure through me, causing me to arch up off the bed into his touch. I buck my hips when he does it again, harsher this time.

He kisses me again and I wrap my jean clad legs around his waist. He groans into my mouth and pulls away. I rub against him, my hips seeming to have a life of their own.

"Again." Sam orders, his voice husky.

I do as I am told, rolling my hips as I moan, "Sam."

He growls, kissing a hot trail down my neck. I rest my hands on his shoulders and dig my nails in when I feel him lay a moist kiss on my left breast. Excitement and arousal dance in my belly, before sinking lower, only adding to the painful throb. I gasp when he draws my nipple into his mouth. The heat makes my eyes flutter closed but they flash back open when he adds his teeth to his routine. I groan and he moves downwards, nibbling on the beginnings of my rib cage.

He lays a tender kiss where my now-healed-broken-rib is and glances up at me, eyes filled with desire and love. I bite my lower lip and watch as he comes to my belly button, his tongue dipping in. The action is so unexpected that I gasp, a breathy giggle escaping a second later because of the sensation.

Sam smiles up at me before looking down—he's nose to nose, so to speak, with my jean's button. His smile slips into something much different and he looks back up at me, his lust-filled as speaking his question for permission clearly. I nod, the button slipping out easily under Sam's skilled fingers. He moves off the bed, bending over to grasp the waist of my jeans, tugging them off after I arch my hips up.

I am down to my underwear right now. I would have loved to say that they were something sexy—like lacy boy-shorts or something remotely resembling lingerie. My cooter was covered by anything but. I was wearing bright red underwear that had the phrase 'Bite me!' written boldly in black on the front.

Sam sees this, laughing lightly before murmuring, "With pleasure."

I blushed red as my underwear, the fire between my thighs nothing compared to the fire that now stained my cheeks. My blush calms and Sam hooks his fingers into my red underwear, pulling them off after seeking permission. Having removed the fire truck red underwear, he stands at the end of the bed now and proceeds to toss my bright panties over his shoulder.

I am laid bare before him, and I feel his eyes leaving fiery trails across my skin as they roam. I look into his eyes and await the verdict.

"You're gorgeous, baby."

I smile shyly up at him for moment, before complaining, "You know this is really unfair. I've got nothing on and you do."

I glance pointedly at his jeans and he smirks, popping the button on them before letting them drop to the floor. I allow my eyes to roam: his broad chest, toned and chiseled abs, that delicious V that I wanted to lick and then I let my eyes drop to the treasure at the end of his treasure trail.

I feel my eyes widen at the sight of him.

He's fucking huge.

I'm not just saying that either—_he_ _is_ _huge_.

What did Sam suffer from, elephantitis in the dick?

That beast was going to break my cooter.

It'd never be the same again.

Sam, having seen my silent panic crawls back over top of me, murmuring, "Don't worry."

I nod, relishing in the feel of his bare chest against mine. He wraps me up in his arms, encircling my waist and I wrap my arms around his neck. He presses his lips to mine, gently settling between my thighs.

I have never felt more exposed in my life—not even when I gave myself to Jake. Maybe it was different now because I had laid my heart out for Sam, just as I was laying myself out now. Maybe it was because this was something so much more. Maybe it was a lot of things. Maybe I didn't really know. But I did know was that it felt amazing. It felt so good to share myself, to truly give myself over. It felt so good to acknowledge this bond, the Imprint in the most basic way.

Sam gently cradles my face in his palms, "I love you."

I nod, "I know. I love you too."

He smiles softly, nudging my thighs apart so that he has more room. I bite my lip in anticipation, and whimper when I feel not his dick, but the tips of his fingers running along my slick folds.

My hips jerk forward, craving his touch. He lays kisses all along my neck as his fingers to the craziest things to my cooter. Everything is so sensitive; it feels like all my nerve endings are standing on end, straining themselves. I bite my lip to keep all the sounds at bay when his thumb presses down on my clitoris, rubbing slowly, almost lazily. I am tempted to tell him to hurry the fuck up, but the thought gets cut off with my strangled cry when I feel a finger circle my entrance. I feel him slip a finger inside and I moan, rather loudly, bucking my hips, forcing his finger deeper. I don't know for how long he moves his finger inside of me, twisting, turning, curling, but I relish every moment. A knot has been formed in my abdomen, and it tightens with every touch. The knot in my belly tightens almost painfully and my mouth goes slack, a sound escaping that I don't recognize, but it doesn't matter as all I can hear is my pulse pounding in my ears.

I blink, and note that Sam is still stroking me, even though I've already had my orgasm. My body shudders, jerking at the heightened sensitivity—his touch already forming another knot in my belly. I moan quietly, and press a kiss to Sam's shoulder.

I move to give Sam the same attention that he has given me but he catches my hand, stopping me. I frown, the denial stinging, and look at him. He smiles down at me, moving to whisper huskily in my ear, "Believe me, baby, it's not that I don't want you to, but I want something even more. I want to cum inside you."

I groan, nodding my head.

He looks at me yet again, his eyes searching mine. I draw him into a kiss, trying to communicate that it was okay, that we were okay like this, that we were ready. He kisses me back and I know he understands.

I feel Sam nestle himself between my sensitively wet folds and we both moan at the contact. He is so hot and hard against me that my eyes close involuntarily as I arch my hips up. The sensation causes me to moan yet again and the tip of his penis is just at my entrance when he freezes over top of me, "Wait, wait, wait…"

I frown, and a pang of confusion runs through me, mingled with hurt. I look into his eyes, "What?"

"Condom." He says huskily.

"I'm on the pill." I reply, relief flooding through me at the reason for his pause.

His forehead drops to my shoulder with groan before he presses a sensual open mouthed kiss at there. He scrapes his teeth against the soft skin and I don't move, allowing him to take control and set the pace. I move my hips slightly, whimpering at the almost-but-not-quite-satisfying contact.

Sam makes eye contact again, before leaning in and pressing his lips to mine. He places a series of kiss upon them (my lips) before pressing his forehead to mine, "I love you, Bella."

I slide my hands that rest on his shoulders up to cup his face as I whisper, "I love you too, Sam."

Nerves dance in my belly as Sam bites his lip, before positioning himself at my entrance for the second time. He looks at me like he knows everything, as if he can see what's racing through my panicky brain right now. But since you're not Sam, I'll let you in on what is going on inside my mind right now:

Sam doesn't know what the hell he is talking about, how does he know his huge dick is going to fit? He doesn't. He doesn't know that it's going to fit. I am going to end up like the female after mating, like they show on Discovery Channel. And in case you don't know what I am talking about—it ain't pretty. One time they showed these two dogs having sex, but it was just so wrong because the female was this small Chiwawa and the male dog was this beast of a Chocolate Labrador. The poor Chiwawa had to take the Labrador's monster of a dick and when it was all said and done her—the Chiwawa's—pussy lips were so swollen that they nearly touched the floor. Fuck, I am the Chiwawa. Holy shit.

"Hey," Sam says, interrupting my frightening train of thought. "Relax. Just Breathe."

I nod and take in a deep breath. He smiles softly, brushing a stray hair out off my forehead, before asking, "Okay?"

"Okay." I repeat, nodding affirmatively.

His smile becomes even softer if that were even possible as he shifts forward. He is now pressing right against my entrance, and if I were to shift my hips the tip of him would gain entry. I wait a moment before shifting my hips and the tip of his penis is in. Sam slowly pushes forward, sliding in and the stretching is mildly uncomfortable because my cooter has never experienced something so big. I gasp and Sam's eyes search mine. He seems to find what he was looking for and pushes forward some more, moving in deeper. I think he is in all the way, but he's not. I bite my lip and Sam with one final push, slides all the way home.

He's huge.

I was right.

My cooter agrees whole heartedly.

Sam fills me up and stretches me to an extent where it's mildly uncomfortable. It stings mildly, and I bite my lower lip trying to ignore it. Sam sees this, pressing a kiss to my lips as a way of distracting me.

Sam is holding himself still, resisting the urge I am sure he feels as he allows me to adjust to the sheer size. The stinging sensation retreats after a bit and I shift my hips experimentally. Sam let's out this grunt-noise-thing and rasps huskily, "You okay?"

I nod unable to speak before shifting my leg, bringing it up and over so that it is wrapped around his waist. My groan is loud even to my ears, but it is overpowered by Sam's response. He growls when I shift my hips again, "Keep that up and I won't be able to hold still."

I press a kiss to his lips, and whisper against his hot mouth, "I'm not asking you to."

He moans before drawing my other leg up into the same position as my other leg. We both make our own sounds of approval at the new position. I arch up into him trying to meet each and every one of his thrusts. I make these God awful sounds as Sam does so and I can't help but groan in frustration when I can't find any relief for the knot churning in my abdomen. It feels like I've got an itch that can't be relieved with any amount of scratching and I without even thinking I begin to move with Sam. The feeling is amazing and I never imagined that it could feel this _good_.

He is tender with me, sweet really. I had always snorted at movies or shows or books when the term 'making love' came in to play because it just sounded so stupid. Making love, hah. It was cheesy and corny and so overused that I had come not to take it seriously and grow to mock it, truthfully. But here, wrapped up in Sam's arms, sharing myself with him, I can't help but wonder if the term is so over rated. I can't help but wonder if this is what they are talking about. I wonder if this is what they mean when they say, "Make love to me." I wonder if they use the simple phrase of _making_ _love _to umbrella what is happening between Sam and I. because if they do, they're right. The love that I feel for Sam swells up inside of me and it's as if there is more of it. It's like I love him even more, if that were even possible.

I focus on Sam, the way he feels, his sweet touch that has my heart swelling, pounding, beating for him. I pull him into a kiss and pray that Sam understands what I am trying to communicate with my lips. He kisses me back, and I cup his face in my palms only pulling myself away when I hug him to me, pressing my face into the juncture where his neck and shoulder meet. He does the same, hugging me by the waist and presses kisses to the crook of my neck. I feel so overwhelmed by the emotions raging in me that I feel tears rising up; the pinpricks at the back of my eyes making me clench them shut.

My heart feels like it's about to burst and it begins to pound faster and faster with every thrust and all of a sudden is like everything is pushing behind me, all the emotions and sensations propel me forward. The knot in my belly tightens yet again and I cry out, "I'm gunna…ah…Sam!"

I vaguely hear Sam over the roar of my own pulse in my ears, but he's calling out my name and I hug him tighter, shuddering through my orgasm. We both come down from my separate highs and I find myself with curled toes and legs that feel like jelly.

I am trying to catch my breath, but it doesn't prove to be easy with Sam resting on top of me trying to catch his own breath. But I don't mind because I enjoy the feeling of being this close to him. I like the feeling of him leaning on me, and I softly run my hands through his hair, pressing a kiss to his temple.

I let my legs fall off of his back and he pulls back, sliding out, leaving me feeling surprisingly empty. I almost want to tell him to put it back but I refrain and roll with him as he moves onto his side, a hand firmly on my waist.

We lay there wrapped up in each other's arms as we enjoy the post coital bliss. We're looking into each other's eyes and I feel him softly stroking the curve of my side. I wonder as he does this if I am supposed to feel any different, now that we've done the whole Marking routine. I don't feel different; it's just like when I look into his eyes I get a sense that its official or something, like he's _really_ mine and I am _really_ his.

I sigh happily, looking at him as my fingers brush through his hair, "Hey."

"Hi." He smiles.

I lean in pressing my lips to his and I murmur against them, "I love you."

"I love you too, baby…that was…" Sam replies, trailing off.

I nod, giggling, "Fucking amazing."

Sam smirks down at me, "Amazing, huh?"

"Fan-fucking-tastic."

**)*O*(**

I am lying in bed with Sam and I have never been happier.

Sam is propped up, resting his upper body on the head board and I am nestled into his side, nearly half my back resting on him. His arm is casually draped over my shoulders, his finger tips drawing doodles over my shoulder and upper arm. It's the early hours of the day, like four in the morning, and we have been awake ever since…well, ever since we did the horizontal tango. I smile and tug my portion of the blankets closer to my body.

We're actually quiet for once, just enjoying each other's company. I close my eyes allowing my thoughts to wander. I think of the future and this excitement fills me, like I can't wait for tomorrow. It sounds corny and stupid, but I can't wait because it'll be another day with Sam.

God, I sound like a gooey romance novel.

I can't help myself though and part of me doesn't want to because everything is just so _good_. Sam and I were good as we had ever been and I couldn't wait for tomorrow so we could get even better. The Pack was good as well, everyone included (even Leah) and I knew that they too would get better tomorrow. Everyone seemed to be moving forward, ready for tomorrow.

I _knew_ we were ready, though. I _knew_ that no matter what, come vampire or werewolf drama that we would be okay. I _knew_ that we were all more than ready for tomorrow, for the future and whatever it held.

I _knew_ that Quil would make it, and someday become more than Claire's friend.

I _knew_ that Kim would settle into this life with Jared gracefully.

I _knew_ that Leah would come to terms with this shit-storm and be stronger, better for it.

I _knew_ this time, no 'maybe' here, that Sam and I _would_ make it to mating season.

And I _knew_, with every fiber in my being that I belonged exactly where I was, both in Sam's arms and La Push.

I had once said that I wanted a life where I didn't know what was coming for me from around the corners, and what better a way to live out that dream by holding fast to the ticket I had been given as a boarder on this supernatural ride called my life. I would do just that—I would live out my life in La Push, with Sam and the Pack by my side, and to tell you the truth, nothing sounded more fucking perfect.

**)*O*(**

**The End.**

**A/N: I write this Authors note with tears in my eyes as I am saying good bye not just to the characters, but to my reviewers as well. Many of you are regulars in my Inbox, and you all know who you are and I cannot thank you enough for ready loyally and offering a few kind words with every update. I truly appreciate every single review that has been submitted for me to read and it is sad to think that there will be no commentary on Bella's snarky attitude or Sam's mysterious ways after this. **

**I cannot thank you all enough for the support that I have received from all of you. You all truly inspired me to keep on writing with every chapter, and I thank you so very much for being my motivation, my inspiration, and my muse. **

**I would like to offer an Epilogue, and if you're interested in one last look into Sam and Bella's lives, let me know with a review. SO, review if you want an Epilogue.**

**Here's the Playlist for this Chapter:**

**I Will Follow You into the Dark—Death Cab for Cutie**

**Anyone Else But You—Moldy Peaches**

**Grow Old with Me—Postal Service**

**Such Great Heights—Postal Service**

**True Love Way—Kings of Leon**

**Hysteric (Acoustic)—Yeah Yeah Yeahs**

**Solitaire—Wilco**

**Sea of Love—Cat Power**

**Season of Love—Shiny Toy Guns**

**You've Got the Love—Florence and the Machine**

**Float On—Modest Mouse**

**Beast of Burden—Rolling Stones**

**Just Breathe—Pearl Jam**

**Love You Till' the End—The Pogues**

**Wonder Wall—Ryan Adams**

**Hey Ya—Obadiah Parker**

**On Call—Kings of Leon**

**Acid Jazz Singer—Fratellis**

**Together—The Raconteurs**

**Inevitable—Anberlin**

**Nights in White Satin—The Moody Blues**

**My apologies for the long, long, long Playlist but it was necessary. It is the end after all. **

**Thanks for reading guys. **

**Be sure to review if you want an Epilogue.**

**It's been fun, let me know what you thought of this wild ride called "Boarders".**

**Laters,**

**-Beavoicenotanecho **


	28. Epilogue

**A/N: Thank you all for your support.**

**I hope this is worth the wait.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own it, I just borrow from S.M.**

_There's no combination of words  
I could put on the back of a postcard  
No song I could sing  
But I can try for your heart  
Our dreams, and they are made out of real things  
Like a, shoebox of photographs  
With sepia tone loving  
Love is the answer,  
At least for most of the questions in my heart  
Like why are we here? And where do we go?  
And how come it's so hard?  
It's not always easy and  
Sometimes life can be deceiving  
I'll tell you one thing it's always better when we're together_

**Boarders**

**Epilogue**

**)*Fifteen Years Later*(**

"Hey there, little guy," Sam says, rubbing my swollen belly. I peek at my husband of eight years over my book that have propped up against my every growing stomach. I giggle rolling my eyes, as Sam continues to talk to his son currently located in my uterus.

"I can't wait to see you, neither can Ash or Max." Sam murmurs, pressing a kiss just above my belly button. He continues to lay reverent kisses all over my belly, and I laugh when he presses his lips firmly before blowing on my stomach.

"Enough!" I laugh, swatting him away from my bulging torso.

Sam moves away, coming to lie down next to me on our bed. I close my book, setting it down next to me. I sit up a bit more, yawning as I lay my hand on my round belly. I rub it absentmindedly as I am hit with the thought that the little person residing within will be here in just two months.

His future brother and sister, Max and Ashlin, cannot wait to meet him. I smile as I think of my first born, Ashlin. She looks a lot like me at only seven years of age. She's a lot like her Dad though, quietly observant with a big heart. Max, however, looks much like Sam. He's five year's old with a big mouth (like mine) and is a smart ass thanks to me.

I cannot believe that I am pregnant again for the third time. I mean, I never really thought I was cut from the mother cloth, but apparently I was. Max and Ashlin were the best things that had ever happened to me, with the exception of Sam of course.

Sam, I was sure, was truly made to be a Dad. When Ash was first born he stepped into his role with great ease, and even when she was just a bundle in his arms she had him wrapped around her little finger. She was his little girl, his princess, and she knew it. She was his little piece of Velcro, always at his side. Where Sam was, Ash was. It had been that way since she was born.

Max, though, was my boy. He was two years younger than Ash and much louder. He was like me, with his big mouth and smarty-pants attitude. He sometimes pushed the envelope too far and had to be reminded just exactly who he was talking to. But he was the cutest fiver year old in the world—but then again, I might be a little biased. He was my shadow and often worked with me in the kitchen, watching as I created new sweets to sell at my bakery _Sugar and Spice_.

I know, right?

But that was me: a baker.

I opened it right after I got out of College, with the Pack's help. The guys helped me get all set up, and were my very first customers. The bakery had been very successful over the years, thank goodness, and I now was able to be at home with the kids a lot more with my success. I only went to work about four times a week now, as opposed to when I first started and was there everyday and night.

_Sugar_ _and_ _Spice_ was my pride and joy (next to Ash and Max of course) and was located in Port Angeles. It was not too big, but not too small, and had just enough space for my ever growing menu. I had a great staff working there and was quite lucky that they had been with me from the very beginning.

I smile when I feel Sam's hand join my own, both our hands resting on my stomach. Our boy kicks from within, as if to acknowledge the attention we're giving him. I open my eyes and turn my head to the left, smile at Sam, "Ready for another one?"

Sam just leans in and places a soft, openmouthed kiss upon my lips. I feel his lips move as he breathes, "Yes, that and the dozen that will follow."

I pull away, laughing, "Funny man."

"I'm serious."

"I am too. There is no way fifteen babies are coming out of my vagina. Let's just play it by ear, okay?"

"Okay, okay, we'll see." He teases, pressing a kiss to my lips.

"You just like seeing me pregnant." I mutter against his hot mouth.

"I can't lie, baby. You're so sexy," Sam growls, kissing the corner of my mouth and up my jaw. "You're so soft and round and delicious."

"And my boobs are bigger." I sigh, knowing that's what he is thinking. He kisses the spot behind my ear, tasting it quickly with a dart of his hot tongue.

"True." He kisses down my neck as his hot hands slide up my sides. I'll never get over it, here I am, fifteen years later and the heat of his touch still shocks me. I shudder, moaning quietly when he stops, only to lay between my open legs.

I place my hands on his broad shoulders, sliding them up to his neck. He dips his head down to kiss me, sending a thrill of desire through me. His mouth is warm against my own as he gently presses against my own, nudging it open. I sigh into his mouth, sliding my tongue out to greet his. He slides his tongue against my own, teasing me in the most delicious way. I draw my legs up around his waist, gently rocking my hips. Sam groans into my mouth as I brush against his stiff boner—I'm thirty two and still refer to his erection as a boner, I know, it's ridiculous—in my search for some friction.

I am just sliding my hands down his torso when I hear the creaking of floor boards. Sighing I push Sam off of me and wait for it. Just as expected my wee man walks in, "I had a bad dream."

Max, looking half asleep in his Super Man pajamas, immediately has my attention. I turn to Sam, who looks disappointed that he's been interrupted, and sigh, "I'll be back."

He nods, watching me as I get up and out of the bed, struggling a little because of my big belly and walk over to Max. I take his hand and say, "Okay, baby, let's go. I'll lay down with you and keep the bad dreams away."

He grabs my hand, slipping his soft little one into my own as I walk down the hallway and slip into his bedroom. I get onto his bed, propping myself up for maximum comfort. Max slides into his bed next to me, nestling into my side, laying his head over my heart. He always does this when he's had a bad dream or upset. I softly run my fingers through his soft brown hair, scratching the back of his neck just where his hair begins to grow. I keep my circuit going and know that he's nearly asleep when he mumbles, "I love you."

"I love you, too," I sigh, planting a soft kiss on the crown of his head. He smells like boy, fresh and soapy. I breathe him in, closing my eyes.

I stay with him until I know that he's okay, not a bad dream in sight. I quietly get out of his small bed and plant a kiss on his forehead. I leave his room and return to my own, hoping that Sam is awake and we can continue where we left off. I walk into our bedroom, only to be met with the sound of soft snores.

I shake my head, smirking.

Sam had been working hard lately, between his shifts as a Police Officer and fixing up the baby's room, he was exhausted. I was thankful that he had stopped Phasing once Max was born. Even though Jake was Alpha now, he still often turned to Sam for advice. Sam still went to Pack meetings, talked to the Council and played a large role within both La Push circles.

Even though Sam had stopped Phasing he still retained the characteristics that he had when he was Phasing. He still was warmer that the average male on our Reservation, but wasn't as warm as the Phasing werewolves. He also could still growl, among other things. But he no longer howled at the moon, though.

I crawl into our bed, snuggling into his warm side. Sam wakes up and tiredly wraps an arm around me, tucking me in closer, "Everything okay with Max?"

"Mm-hmm," I lay my head on his chest. "He was just scared. Needed a little love."

"I need a little love." Sam drawls sarcastically, yawning.

I kiss his chest, feeling my lips burn due to his heat, "We both need some love."

"We were about to get some, too, before Max decided to cock-block."

"Did you just call your son a cock-block?"

"Yup. It's the truth. I love him to pieces but he needs to learn to share his Mom."

"This, coming from the guy who wants dozens of kids."

"Hey, we can get a system. Maybe we should start taking numbers."

I just laugh, "Well, maybe we can get my Mom to babysit soon."

"That sounds like a good idea." Sam kisses the top of my head, and I look up at him.

He smiles down at me, bowing his head to kiss my lips. I kiss him back, before pulling away to yawn.

"Sorry, baby," I say through the yawn. "I'm tired."

He just nods, rubbing my back. I sigh and rub his side, murmuring, "I love you, Sam."

"I love you, Bells."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, and wait for sleep to take me.

**)*O*(**

I wake up to little hands on my stomach, gently moving about. I open one eye to see that it's Max who is exploring my hill of a stomach. I smirk and close my eyes, before murmuring, "Rub it too much and your baby brother is going to pop out."

Max's curious eyes dash to mine, "Like a genie?"

I laugh, "Like a genie."

Max giggles with me and I say, "Did I do a good job and keep all the bad dreams away?"

Max smiles and nods, crawling up the bed to wrap his arms around my neck. I hug him back, still half asleep as I do so. It is only now that I realize it's just Max and I in the bed and I pull away, "Where's Daddy?"

"With Ash in the kitchen." My son replies smartly, looking at me with his big brown eyes.

"Uh-oh." I gasp with exaggeration. "Do you think he'll burn breakfast again?"

Sam would never live down that Saturday morning in the kitchen. He had been trying to be nice and make a family breakfast, but it didn't turn out so well. He burnt the pancakes and French toast; needless to say we went to the Diner for breakfast that morning.

Max giggles, nodding in agreement.

I smile at him, "That's my boy."

I am just getting up when I hear from the doorway, "Breakfast is ready."

I look over to see Sam standing there, leaning against the door jam. I smile and get up with a grunt, rubbing my stomach, grumbling, "This seems to get bigger with each day."

Max hops off the bed and dashes towards Sam, who promptly picks him up easily, holding him with one muscled arm, "Hey kiddo, what'd I say about bothering Mommy when she's asleep?"

"Not to." Max says somberly, looking contrite.

"Oh, leave him be, I couldn't have asked for a better wake up call." I walk over to Sam, placing a kiss on his lips. He smiles and pulls away after Max exclaims, "Gross!"

I chuckle, as does Sam. He sets Max down on the ground and we all walk down to the kitchen together. Ash is sitting at the kitchen counter, a spread of crayons surrounding her as she colors quietly. That's one thing I can do—leave Ash by herself. Had it been Max down in the kitchen by himself—I don't even want to think about it.

Ash smiles wide when she sees me and hops off her seat to run over and hug me. I hug her back, burying my face in the crook of her neck as I breathe in. My heart swells with this overwhelming love and I hold her to me tight for a moment, "Morning, Baby-Girl."

"Morning, Mom." She breathes, pulling away after I let her go.

I stand up and survey the kitchen, "Manage to burn anything yet?"

"Ha-ha, funny, babe." Sam says dryly, rolling his eyes as he walks over to the stove. He opens up the oven, pulling out a stack of pancakes that had been warming inside. I smile before sitting down next to Ash and Max. I run a hand through Ash's hair, rubbing her back softly, "How was you're sleep?"

"Good." She picks up a red crayon.

I yawn, and pat my stomach when I feel the baby kick. It was eight o'clock on a Saturday morning; I'm surprised Sam managed to keep the kids in control for so long while I slept. Sam moves about the kitchen, plating the kids' food, cutting up their pancakes into bite size pieces. I get up and walk over to the cabinet that contains our cups. I take out Ash's princess cup and Max's Super Man cup. I poor milk into the both of them and set them down where the kids are sitting.

"I have to go in to work today and pick up Kim's cake." I say, putting the kettle on for my morning tea, I'd rather a coffee, but I can't have any since I'm preggers.

"Okay," Sam says, setting the kid's plates down in front of them. "I've got to go into Port Angeles to pick up her present. So, we should go in around eleven?"

I walk over and begin to put together my own plate of pancakes, saving some for Sam. I pour a healthy helping of syrup all over them and begin to eat my breakfast.

"It's Auntie Kim's birfday party today?" Max asks excitedly.

"It sure is. You remember how to sing happy birthday, right?" I ask teasingly.

"Of course!" Max exclaims and proceeds to sing happy birthday.

Sam shakes his head and sets a mug of tea down beside my plate. I smile at him, "Thank you."

"No problem," He says sweetly, kissing my temple and gently rubbing my belly.

We finish up breakfast and I heard the kids upstairs, preparing to get them ready. I trust Ashlin to get herself ready, but Max, not so much. I pick out his clothes so that he actually matches and doesn't look like he got dressed in the dark. I pull him out of his pajamas and put him in his jeans and red T-shirt.

He smiles once he's done and I tell him to go and brush his teeth. While he's in the bathroom I go and check on Ash. She's just finished getting ready when I walk in and I sit down on her bed, motioning for her stand between my legs. She walks over and I grab the brush from her nightstand table.

I begin to gently run the comb through her, righting all the knots and snarls, "How do you want to do your hair today?"

"Um…up?" She says, handing me an elastic band.

"You got it, boss." I say, pulling her hair up into a ponytail.

She giggles before turning around and glancing at my stomach.

"How much longer?"

"Two months, Sweetie."

"That's so long." Ash complains.

"I know. But before you know it you'll have another little brother."

She scrunches her nose up, "Another boy?"

I smile at her, "Yes, Ash."

She sighs, "I want a sister."

"I know you do."

She sighs again, looking at my round belly, "Why can't you be a girl?"

I laugh, standing up, "Go brush you teeth."

She goes into the bathroom and Max walks out smiling brightly. I crouch down, "Breath."

He opens his mouth, and sighs, blowing a gust of air towards me. I breathe in, "Minty fresh. Good boy."

He smiles, "Minty fresh."

**)*O*(**

I walk into my bakery, Max and Ashlin trailing behind me. Sam was off to go pick up Kim's present, leaving me with the kids. I've got Max's hand in my left and Ash's in my right as I navigate my way through customers in order to get to the back. I walk through to the back, the portion of the bakery that has the office, and smile when I see one of my closest friends and employee, Sarah.

"Hey, you!" She greets coming out from the office. "You just get bigger every time I see you."

"Funny," I reply hugging her. "We're just here to pick up Kim's cake."

Sarah turns her attention to the kids, "What, no hugs for Sarah?"

Sarah had seen me through both pregnancies and had grown very close to the kids over the years. I smile and release Ash's and Max's hands so that they can greet Sarah properly with a hug.

"Can you just watch them while I get the cake?"

"Sure!" Sarah smiles, taking them into the office.

I quickly get the cake and come back out to here the giggles and laughter of my children. I quietly peek my head into the office to see Sarah putting on a show using little finger puppets. I chuckle, "Enjoying yourself?"

Sarah looks at me, "Of course. Finger puppets are the coolest, right, Max? Ash?"

Both of my kids nod and I shake my head, "Well, we have to go now, guys. Say 'good-bye' to Sarah."

My kids do as they're told and we leave the bakery. Sam is waiting outside for us and we all pile into the car. The ride home is quick and soon we're out the car and in the house. I get in and sit down on the couch and close my eyes for a moment, feeling tired. It was only twelve o'clock but my back was a bit sore, and it felt nice to close my eyes.

I blink them open when I feel a little person curl into my side, I know its Ash and I wrap an arm around her. "You ready for the party?"

She nods. Ash was quiet, very shy and the complete opposite of Max. I gently rub her back, occasionally playing with the ends of her hair. I hear Max and Sam in the kitchen, obviously making lunch and I thank whoever runs the big show for blessing me with a nice husband who did nice things like make lunch.

Ash and I lounge on the couch until Sam tells us that lunch is ready. Ash hops off the couch with great ease and I, the round pregnant lady, get up with much less grace. She giggles at my struggle and grabs my hand, leading me into the kitchen.

Max is already enjoying is grilled cheese sandwich, and Ash sits down next to him in front of her plate that also has a grilled cheese. I see that Sam has also made a sandwich for me, and I walk over to him and kiss him on the cheek in thanks.

I devour my cheesy sandwich, eating all but the crusts—which Sam does eat for me. We finish lunch, chatting with the kids about whatever pops into their precious little brains. An hour passes with ease and we all pile back into the car, headed for Jared and Kim's place.

We arrive after the short trip and get out of the car. Max and Ash run up ahead, excited to see the Pack—well the Pack to Sam and I, but not to them. Jared opens the door just as they are about to knock and smiles at them, swooping down to pick them up in one great big hug. I see them disappear into the interior of the house and my heart clenches, not liking not having them in sight. I walk a bit faster and feel Sam slip his hand into mine, threading his fingers through, "Relax, baby."

I smile, "I know, I just—you know how I feel."

He smiles, wrapping an arm around my waist, "I know."

We enter the house and we're greeted with a chorus of greetings. Jared, greets me as he did the kids, pulling me into a hug, "How are you doing, girl?"

I smile, "Just fine, Jared. This is my third; I am practically a professional at this. How's Kim doing?"

Kim was pregnant too, but only five months along with her second. "She's…good."

I chuckle at his response and Sam asks from my side, "Mood swings?"

"You've got no idea."

Sam laughs, "Yeah, I know, Bells was crazy when she was pregnant with Max."

"I was?" I arch an eyebrow.

Sam chuckles, wrapping an arm around my waist, "Have I told you I love you yet today?"

"I love you too, you cheeky shit." I reply, chastely kissing his lips.

He smiles down at me and I am about to say something else when I hear Quil talking to Max. They're both exceptionally loud and I look over to see the both of them in the midst of what they consider a serious conversation. I shake my head, and I see Kim headed over with a bright smile.

"Happy birthday!" I greet, hugging her.

"Thanks!" She replies, and I am reminded of her cake.

I turn to Sam, "Baby, could you get the cake out of the car?"

Sam does as he told and I walk into the kitchen with Kim. I see Leah there and I smile. Things had gotten much better between the two of us. We were actually able to enter a conversation with each other and not have it turn into an argument. We weren't best friends but we certainly weren't enemies either.

"Hey, Bella," Leah smiles. "How are you and the baby?"

"Good," I reply, walking over to her. "Getting bigger every day."

She smiles and glances down at my stomach. She places her hand on it, and jumps back when she feels him kick. I snicker, "Scared ya?"

"Unexpected," She amends, playfully narrowing her eyes. "Thought of any names yet?"

"Well, Sam likes the name John. But I don't know yet, I've got two months to brainstorm anyway." I say, grabbing a carrot off of the food trays on the kitchen counter.

She chuckles and smiles when Ash walks in, "Auntie Leah!"

Despite my past with Leah, she was great with kids. She worked at a Day Care we had in La Push and was totally in her element. She and Ash got along great, and it often shocked me how much she had changed. Leah had truly changed and I still got to see glimpses of the new person every time I saw her.

Leah picks Ash up, setting her down her lap. I smile and say, "You okay here, Ash, if I go say hello to everyone?"

"Yuppers!" Ash replies, smiling brightly.

I walk back into the living room and am immediately pulled into a hug. I wrap my arms around Jake's neck, "Hey!"

"Hey, Baby-Girl!"

I step out of his arms, "How are you?"

"Good, good, you know, same old, same old. How's my future nephew doing?" He glances down at my stomach.

"Oh, he's fine. I swear he's going to be a soccer player or something with the amount of kicking that goes on in there."

Jake laughs, shaking his head. I worry about him, more than I probably should. Maybe it was because I was a Mom now and my maternal instincts are always on, but I worried about Jake. He had yet to Imprint and I found myself wondering if he ever would. I knew the Imprint brought much more than love; it promised protection and a loyal companion that would always be there for you. I worried that he'd never find that person that he could truly share himself with, that he could find happiness with. Jake often said that he didn't mind, that he was okay if he never Imprinted but I doubted it. I knew Jake, and something told me there was a lot more to this than he let on.

I place my hand on his forearm, "How are _you_ doing?"

I guess he could tell by the look on my face that I was asking about more than just the casual, day to day crap.

"You already asked that, Bella, I'm okay." He laughs, and I narrow my eyes.

"You know what I mean, Jake. I worry about you."

"Hey, relax, Mom." He teases.

"I do, though, Jake. I really do worry about you."

He wraps an arm around my shoulder, "I'm okay, right now. I'd tell you if I wasn't, Baby-Girl, you know that."

I nod, wrapping an arm around his waist, "I know…I just…"

He squeezes my shoulder, "I know, Bella, I know."

I smile up at him, nodding. "I know you do."

Max comes up to me and I pick him up, balancing him on my hip, "Hey, little man, how you doing?"

"Okay." He wraps an arm around my neck.

I smile, and whisper into his ear, "Say hi to Jake."

"Hi, Uncle Jakey." My son greets, smiling.

I begin to shift Max in my arms when Jake reaches over and takes him for me, "I got him."

I smile, "Thanks."

It wasn't easy holding a fiver year old. He wasn't as light as when he was a baby, and my back was sore. I smile when Max demands, "Do the air plane, Jakey!"

Jake does as he is told and swings my son up in the air, catching him soundly. For a moment, I see something in his eyes, and I know that he feels like he's missing out. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he wants this. That he wants to be a Dad, I smile softly at him but he's too busy amusing Max.

Shaking my head, I walk away, "Don't break my kid."

I walk over to the cheese and cracker's plate, bending over and getting myself a snack. I stand back up, huffing at the difficulty at performing such a simple act. I hear someone snickering from my left and I glance over to see Quil.

"Yeah, that's nice, laugh at the struggling pregnant lady." I snap playfully, biting into my cracker and cheese.

Quil stands up, pulling me into a hug, "Sorry, B."

I just hug him back, "How are you, Quil? I haven't seen you in a while."

"I'm good. You?" He releases me.

"I'm good; I think you're the first person to ask me how I am doing, opposed to the baby." I laugh.

"Well, that was my next question," He says, bending down and placing a hand on my proud belly. "How ya doing in there baby Uley?"

I snicker, "He's good."

The baby kicks and Quil taps back, as if he's communicating with the kid. I shake my head when the baby kicks again and Quil taps again.

"Are you done?" I ask, placing a hand on my round tummy.

"I'm having a conversation here."

"You're crazy, I feel sorry for Claire. How is Claire, by the way?"

Quil stands up then, rubbing my belly one last time. "She's good."

"Yeah?" I ask. "Made your move on her yet?"

Quil looks down, "Not yet."

I smile and sigh, "Quil…"

"I'm just nervous. I mean, I am so much older than her. What if she doesn't want a relationship with me?"

"Quil," I sigh. "She'll want it. No matter what. I see the way she looks at you; you're her best friend, her protector. Believe me," I glance over at Claire who is across the room, talking to Kim. "She _does_ want it."

Quil looks over at Claire, a smile gracing his lips instantly. "Yeah?"

"Yes. Now get over there and talk to your woman." I order playfully.

"She isn't mine yet, but she will be, thanks, Bella." Quil smiles, leaving me to the crackers and cheese.

I sigh and sit down on the couch behind me. Out of habit I rest my hand on my belly and close my eyes briefly. I open when I feel someone sit beside me on the couch. I glance over to see Paul and I smile, "Hey, Paul."

He smiles at me, "Hey, B."

"I'd hug you but I really don't want to get up."

"No worries, Bella. How've you been?"

"Pregnant." Is my one word reply.

Paul laughs and I join him, asking, "How about you?"

"I've been good." Paul replies.

"How's Michelle?" I ask, referring to his Imprint. He had Imprinted on her just two weeks ago, in the grocery store of all places. I was happy that I had one less person to worry about. I still had to worry about Embry, who also had yet to Imprint.

"She's great." Paul smiles and I smirk.

"Yeah?"

"I took her out for coffee yesterday, Bella, she's so smart."

I smile, shaking my head. "I'm sure she is."

I get up when I see Embry and pull him into a hug. I pull back, resting my hands on his biceps, "How are you?"

"I'm good," Embry replies, smiling. "You?"

I chat with Embry for a bit but am drawn away when I hear Max's cry. My eyes immediately find him, tears pooling in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks as he gasps for air. I dash over to him, wiping at his cheeks, "Baby, sh, sh, what happened?"

He just wails harder, gripping his elbow. I pick him up, rubbing his back, "You're okay, Max."

He clutches to my neck, whimpering. I look to Jake who is standing there looking guiltily at my boy.

"What happened?" I demand.

"I dropped him…I-I'm sorry, Bella. He hit his elbow and his head on the way down."

Max his still shuddering in my arms, trying to breathe in between his choked sobs.

I feel Sam walk up beside me, "What happened?"

"Nothing, it was an accident." I sigh, adjusting him in my arms.

Sam takes him from my arms, wiping his tears away, "You're fine. You know, the more you cry, the less you pee."

My son stops crying for a moment, and a confused frown puckers his forehead for a moment, "What?"

"The more the cry, the less you pee." My husband tells our son, as though it makes perfect sense.

"Daddy," My son giggles, a small smile taking over. "That isn't true."

"The water's gotta go somewhere," Sam smiles, tickling Max.

Max's giggling fills the air and I smile, watching him. Max wriggles in Sam's arm and Sam sets him down. I look at Jake and say, "Don't worry, but no more airplane, okay?"

Jake smiles, "Yeah, okay."

Sam pulls me into his side, and I smile.

"You know, Sam, one of these days Max is going to believe that it's true."

"It is, the more you cry, the less you pee, it's only logical."

I laugh. "I don't remember learning that in school."

"That's because you were too busy thinking about your sexy boyfriend."

"Is that so?" I muse, looking up into Sam's eyes. "I did have a pretty fuck-hot boyfriend."

"Fuck-hot?" Sam parrots, smirking.

"Fuck-hot."

**)*O*(**

Our house is silent.

The kids are tucked away in their beds and asleep. Sam and I are in the living room, relaxing. I watch him from the corner of my eye and I feel my heart swell up inside my chest. I loved this man so much, even more so than when I was seventeen.

When I was seventeen the love felt so intimidating, so oppressive, but in reality, this love had set me free. I had been foolish to think that love was something you could hide from, deny really. I couldn't deny this man, couldn't deny the love I had.

I wouldn't lie and say that we were perfect, that our relationship was perfect, because it wasn't. There had been times where we didn't talk, times when we argued, times when we hurt each other. Those times would happen again, I knew they would, I would be a fool to think otherwise.

But in the end, it was Sam that held my heart. It was Sam who held my hand, kept me strong when I was at my weakest. It was Sam who kept me grounded. It was Sam who put me back together when I fell apart. It was Sam who made me laugh and smile and want to chase forever.

I watch as Sam walk over to the stereo and put a CD inside. He sets the volume down low, as not to wake up the kids. The music floods the room, swimming through the space. I smile when he comes over to me, offering his hand, and says, "Dance with me."

I take his hand, stepping into his arms, "Of course."

**)*O*(**

**A/N: Well, this is the official farewell, isn't it? Say goodbye to our Difficult Bella and Sweet Sam. I hate to pack them away, but, I must.**

**I hope the Epilogue sufficed, and pleased you all. Let me know what you thought. **

**It's been a pleasure writing for you all, thank you, readers. You made all the hard work and hours put into writing this story worth it.**

**-Beavoicenotanecho**

**PS: Lyrics at the beginning of the Epilogue our from the song, "Better Together" by Jack Johnson.**


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